Thingamabobs
by HighSidhe
Summary: This is where the half-baked ideas that I've lost interest in but would still like to see written will go. If you decide to use anything, please send me the link so that I can read it.
1. Chapter 1

**Children of Time**

**Harry Potter/Doctor Who**

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><p>Harry slowly came into awareness. As far as he could tell, he was lying on his bedroom floor, which led to the question of how he'd ended up in the floor and why there was a large black spot on the ceiling. He tried to sit up but decided against that course of action when everything started to spin. After a moment of regaining his bearings, he slowly sat up and looked around him. His memories came back after he noticed the cauldron in the corner which looked half melted and was slowly oozing a thick greenish mixture. Slowly the teen climbed to his feet and started the clean up process. He considered it a good thing that his relatives weren't in for the weekend, otherwise he could be in trouble.<p>

It wasn't until he'd finished cleaning up and had gone into the bathroom to shower that he realized something very important. First off, he was no longer sixteen. Second off, he no longer looked like himself. His hair was more of a tawny brown now though it still refused to lie flat, and his eyes were still the same bright green, but his skin was no longer quite so pale so they didn't appear to be quite as bright as they used to. All in all, he no longer looked like himself. Even his scar was barely visible now.

_What the hell was in that potion?_

Now that he'd gotten over the changed appearance, he started panicking. How was he supposed to explain this to people? Forget that, how was he supposed to defeat Voldemort as an eleven year old. In a moment of panic, he peered into his underwear and groaned as realization hit. He certainly wasn't getting laid anytime soon. He found himself wondering what changes had taken place to his body. He knew that he was taller now than when he'd been eleven the first time, he also wasn't nearly as skinny although he was still pretty thin.

_What should I do?_

His first thought was write to Ron and Hermione, but he quickly discarded that thought. Dumbledore had instilled an information black-out and he'd be damned if he wrote to those two after they'd left him to cope without support all summer. Dumbledore was out for the same reason; hell, most of the Order was out for that reason. This didn't leave him a very long list of people he could contact.

Abruptly he thought of Luna. She was a bit odd, but he got the feeling she was more observant than she let on, and unlike Ron and Hermione, she was in no way affiliated with the Order of the Flamingly Gay Chickens. With that thought in mind, he dug out a piece of parchment and jotted out a quick note.

**Dearest Luna,**

**First off, I apologize for not writing to you. That was very rude of me. How has your summer been? I ask this because yours has not doubt been full of adventure, perhaps searching for the ever elusive Crumple-horned snorcack.**

Harry had no idea how, but he got the feeling that the creatures actually existed. They certainly rang a bell, although he didn't think he'd ever actually seen one.

**I've heard that they like to inhabit areas around swamps, although I could be wrong about that. As it is, I've ran into a bit of trouble. Knowing you, you probably already know what's going on, but you are the only person I feel comfortable asking apart from perhaps Neville. You see, due to a little potion's accident, my appearance as well as apparent age have been drastically changed. I am back to being eleven, and I look nothing like Harry Potter.**

**Any suggestions on how to change back, or what I should do if that is not possible? Any help would be vastly appreciated.**

**Yours,**

**Harry**

It was short; Luna had a remarkably short attention span, after all. "Send this to Luna Lovegood, would you?" He requested of Hedwig.

His beloved owl gave him a look before gratefully taking off out the window. Harry settled back in thought for a moment. If he wasn't able to change back, this could work nicely. He looked nothing like Harry Potter, and he didn't think he really acted like him either, although he wasn't sure about the latter. Still, it could be a chance to start over at Hogwarts, make friends with people who didn't care about the fact that he was Harry bloody Potter. Hell, he wouldn't have to hide his intelligence behind a mask of stupidity.

With a slight grin, he pulled the parchment towards him and started writing on it. He had a few letters to write out if he was going to successfully start over. First off, he was going to have to make sure that he had actual funds to go to Hogwarts on. Second, he needed a new name as well as a birth date. Thirdly, he needed a family so that they wouldn't become suspicious. Last, he decided he was going to do something he'd always thought was pretty fun but never really had a chance to do because of his fame - he wanted to prank people. He'd always looked up to the Weasley twins, although he'd never planned telling them that.

He would have to wait until Hedwig got back from Luna's before he could mail anything else out though. Beyond that, he'd have to make sure that the Order members didn't see him accidentally.

Speaking of which...

_Where the hell were they when that potion blew up. And why did it blow up in the first place?_

He cautiously peered outside to see who his current guard was.

_Oh you have got to be kidding me!_

Mundungus Fletcher was leaning against the tree snoring away. True he was invisible, but the sun was shining and his shadow was quite visible and his snoring could be heard from the window. Harry frowned slightly in thought. If he was going to leave, now would be the perfect opportunity. He just hoped that Hedwig didn't come back here and wait on him. Then again, she had proved to be a fairly intelligent owl.

Harry trotted downstairs and after a moment's concentration, was able to unlock the cupboard under the stairs with a hairpin. He had asked to learn that particular skill from the twins after they had rescued him before his second year. Quickly he packed his trunk with his things and lugged it to the front door. After depositing it there, he trotted back upstairs and wrote out two quick notes; one for the Dursley's and the other for whoever came to collect him. These he left on the kitchen table.

Sneaking by Mundungus was unbearably easy. The man was drunk, after all, and appeared to be sleeping off several bottles of Odgen's finest. Using the funds left over from last year's shopping, Harry flagged the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley. After a moment's thought, he headed into Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

He settled down to wait with a double chocolate chip and raspberry ice cream cone. For the moment, he figured that no one had realized yet that anything had happened. That was such a reassuring thought. There was no one there besides Florean Fortescue himself and he wasn't paying much attention to Harry.

_If there was a death eater attack, the idiots wouldn't notice until September first._

It wasn't long before Hedwig flew over with a reply from Luna. He got a glance from Florean, but he doesn't seem to recognize Hedwig which Harry was grateful for.

**Harry**

**That's fine. My summer has been wonderful. Father and I went snorcack hunting. While it is true that they prefer swampy areas, it is also true that that is only during the early spring months. During the summer, they prefer beaches. Don't worry, they only feed off of happiness from the tourist.**

**You are quite right that I already knew. Don't worry. Dad and I are on our way to Diagon Alley. Don't worry about the flaming turkeys, they'll not find you. Don't go anywhere. Everything will be explained soon enough.**

**Luna**

Almost as soon as he had finished, he spotted Luna and someone he assumed to be her father enter the parlor. He waved them over and Luna promptly sat down across from him with her usual dreamy smile.

"How'd you get here so quick?" He asked with a slight frown.

"My Luna always knows where she needs to be." Her father answered brightly. "I'm Xenophilius, but you can call me Xeno."

"Harry Potter, but I'm thinking of a name change." Harry answered with a grin. He could tell that he was going to like Xeno.

"Come along then, Harry. Luna will explain everything once we get home."

Harry accepted this and followed the two outside. Before he could protest, Xeno had grabbed his arm and apparated away with him and Luna in tow.

"Come in, Harry." Harry's brows shot into his hairline. Luna no longer had that dreamy quality to her voice that he had grown accustomed to. "We have much to discuss."

"Will he be staying here, Luna?" It was odd to see Xeno deferring to Luna, but Harry filed that away for further consideration.

"Yes, put him in the guest room, please." Luna said after a moment's thought. She noticed Harry's befuddled look and snickered. "He's not my biological father." She explained.

"I'm hopelessly confused." Harry said finally.

"My father is an alien, I guess you could say." Luna started. "He's not a very nice one either. He likes taking over worlds."

"What, is there some sort of an organization? United Confederation of World Domination, maybe?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"It does seem to be a recurring theme." Luna said matter-of-factly.

"Your dad isn't going to team up with Voldemort, is he?" Harry asked worriedly.

Luna giggled at the thought. "Daddy's dead. I think." She said after managing to control herself.

"And you find that funny?" Came the incredulous response.

"No." She said soberly. "Just the thought of daddy and Voldemort teaming up. Dad would murder him for sheer incompetence."

"Incompetence? He nearly destroyed England?" Harry sputtered.

"My dad does not nearly destroy countries." Luna said softly. "He destroys planets completely."

"Sounds like a real winner." Harry muttered. "Not that this isn't enlightening or anything, but what does it have to do with-" He gestured at himself in general.

"You are the son of an alien that is of the same race as my father." She explained after a moment.

"So I'm part alien?" He was bemused by this. "Are you sure it isn't just a freak potion accident? And how do you know that, anyway?"

Luna shook her head sadly. "This is what you're supposed to look like. The potion cancelled the spell that was laid over you as a baby. Your father is a Time Lord called the Doctor. My father is called the Master. You look like the Doctor's current form, except for your eyes."

"Kinky." Harry deadpanned.

"I do have to wonder what he was thinking when he chose that." She agreed with a grin.

"So do you know why I seem to have been deaged?" Harry asked with a slight frown. "And how do you know that I'm this Doctor fellow's son?"

"Time Lords age differently from humans. Sixteen human years is about the equivalent of eleven Time Lord years. Your human parents must have done something to your Time Lord biology. Check your heartbeat." Luna ordered

Harry checked and found himself listening to a steady four beat rhythm. "Okay, either this is one hell of an elaborate joke, or you're telling the truth." Harry said in a distant tone.

"I can't explain everything to you." Luna said, "I've only met dad a few times when I was little, before I came to earth, but I can explain a bit." And with that, Luna set about explaining Time Lords to her friend.

"Wicked." Harry breathed when she finished up. He paused as something hit him for the first time. "I've never been older than you, have I?" With a grin she shook her head.

"We're slow growers which is why I only look slightly older than eleven despite being a fifth year."

"So how are we able to use magic if we're not humans?"

Luna looked thoughtful. "Actually it's a bit weird because as far as I know Time Lords can't use magic, yet here we are. I have a few theories of course, but I'm not entirely certain."

"Maybe Time Lords have always been able to do something similar to magic but never realized it." Harry suggested tentatively.

"Could be. It would make sense. Time Lords were an arrogant lot and just assumed that they knew everything there was to know about the universe. It is possible that in their arrogance they ignored an entire field of study." She paused for a moment before laughing suddenly. "Wouldn't that be funny?"

"So what happens to me now?" Harry asked after a few moment of silence.

"We establish you a new identity." Luna said firmly. "To do that, we need to go to Gringotts."

An hour after Harry Potter entered, James Moriarty walked out. Officially, he was born August 4th in 1985 and was preparing to start his first year at Hogwarts. Because they were already in Diagon Alley, James and Luna decided to go shopping for their school things. James was taller than Harry had been, and he wasn't quite as skinny so his robes no longer fit, which suited him just fine. It hadn't been difficult transferring significant amount of funds from the Potter account to a new account under the names of James Moriarty and Luna Lovegood.

He also picked up a new set of potions equipment as well as ingredients. He was taking absolutely no chances in anyone recognizing anything that belonged to Harry Potter which was also how he found himself clothes shopping with Luna afterwards.

The only person to recognize Harry was Ollivander. "So, the spell is gone?" He asked as Harry was measured.

"Wait..you knew?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course." Ollivander replied. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry asked with a steely glare.

"Would you have believed me?" Ollivander pointed out mildly.

Harry thought about it a moment before reluctantly shaking his head no.

"Thought not. Try this." Harry gave the wand a brief wave, but he knew before it was even picked up that it wasn't it. An hour later and frustrations were running high, although Luna just looked amused.

"I would try to give you a non-human wand, but you were born here on earth, so I don't think that would work." Ollivander muttered as he circled around Harry.

"Hang on, didn't you have the same problem with hers?" Harry asked suddenly.

"No. I made my own." Luna answered with a dreamy smile. "It's willow, but it's got my dad's TARDIS key as the core."

"That actually works?" Ollivander asked surprised. "Interesting. As it is, Mr. Moriarty was born on earth and wands are composed of things that define the wielder."

"That makes sense, I guess. My old wand doesn't work for me anymore."

"Of course not. You are no longer Harry Potter." Ollivander's face was sporting a 'duh' look. "Hmm, perhaps this one will work?" He handed a wand over to Harry. "Your father had this made so that he wouldn't look quite so odd. It never worked for him, but perhaps you-?" He broke off as bright gold sparks showered from the tip.

"Twelve and a half inches with a sprig of wood that his Tardis so kindly provided. Charming lady that one, don't think she liked me much, though."

"Why would his Tardis bit work for me if I've never even seen one?" Harry asked with a slight frown.

"You'd have to ask the Tardis that." Ollivander said evasively. "That'll be six galleons and ten sickles."

"I have found that using a wand is optional." Luna remarked from beside him. "You could always use a stick, carve it up a bit, and use it as a prop."

Harry snorted sardonically. "I'll try Ollivander's suggestion first." He paid the money to Ollivander and left with Luna. "Who is he, anyway. I could feel kinda like a tickle on my mind when I was in there."

"He's a Time Lord." Luna sounded odd. "I had not realized there was one in Diagon Alley. The high concentration of magic effectively blocks his presence."

When they got back, it was to find an owl waiting for him with his school letter. All he actually needed now were his schoolbooks.

A week later, he went back for his textbooks. Finding his schoolbooks was easy as they hadn't been moved since his first year. Once he'd located all of the required texts with a bit of help from the shop owner, he started browsing around for general books on things like Occlumency, which would be useful since he couldn't have people reading his mind concerning his identity, common household spells, because they were useful in a duel, and politics so that he didn't look like a complete moron.

In total, his books cost twelve galleons and four sickles. With a gleeful grin, he portkeyed back to the roost, which is what Luna called her home - the Lovegood roost. He had become a permanent houseguest of sorts because Luna had informed him that 'we Time Lords have to stick together'.

He discovered that he rather liked the blonde girl. She had a wicked sense of humor, which she perfected with that dreamy look that she was known for so that most people would never realize she'd just cracked a joke.

All in all, life for James Moriarty was looking up. Life for the Order, on the other hand, was not so good.

XXXXX

Dumbledore was beginning to regret putting Harry on an informational blackout. His little friends hadn't written him all summer, as per Dumbledore's orders, so he'd written the boy telling him he'd finally be getting out. Perhaps he should have been suspicious about the lack of response, but he hadn't really been expecting a reply anyway so he hadn't realized anything was wrong.

Perhaps if he'd permitted Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger to write he might have avoided this catastrophe, or at least had a good idea of when and where he'd gone.

"The last we saw the boy, was right before our camping trip." Vernon Dursley had told him gruffly. "When we came back, he was gone and his things were missing. Good riddance, I say!"

"Did he leave a note or something?" Dumbledore quizzed the obese man.

"Yeah, he left us a note. Told us with luck he'd never see us again." Dudley piped up from between his parents.

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" He asked tiredly.

"Not a one."

"Very well. I'll take my leave." He left, wondering why the wards hadn't alerted him to the boy's leaving. It should have sent up an alarm, but it hadn't. He only hoped that the poor boy was alright.

In the meantime, I shall continue to use Grimmauld's Place as my base of operations. When I find him, I shall explain his inheritance to him. Hopefully he'll continue to allow us to use it.

Now he needed to talk to the boy's friends. After a moment, he vanished with a loud crack.

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><p><strong>Master of Death<strong>

**Harry Potter/Torchwood**

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><p>Ianto Jones idled in front of the Millennium building in Cardiff, Wales. He had, unfortunately, been transferred to Torchwood Three from Torchwood One by Yvonne Hartman. He might have been happier if she hadn't blackmailed him into spying on them. He had every intention of getting out of it as soon as possible.<p>

Unfortunately, until he managed, he knew that he would have to do as the bitch had ordered him to do.

He caught slight movement out of the corner of his eye and focused on it. Magic had taught him that the way to see past notice-me-not charms was to look out of the corner of his eyes and this appeared to operate under the same principle because when he looked directly, he couldn't see a damn thing. So he did what any smart person would, he turned away and got a good look at the person out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you planning on standing there all day?" He asked finally.

"It's a thought." The man had a vaguely American accent, but it didn't sound quite like one. It had a little something extra in it. He puzzled over it a moment before filing it away in the back of his mind.

He sighed. He had been warned that his welcome would likely be less than pleasant. Still, he had hoped that they would have common courtesy at the very least. Apparently that was too much to ask. "How rude." He mused out loud to himself. "I knew that Three was in need of help but I didn't realize they needed lessons in manners as well."

"I think you can guess where you can shove your manners."

"I'll take that under consideration." He answered calmly.

"C'mon." He stepped on the lift and bit back a smirk as the Captain put as much distance between the two as possible on the small square. This was highly unlike what he'd heard of the risqué Captain.

"Don't worry, I don't bite." he murmured in an undertone.

Ianto's first thought upon entering the Hub for the first time was that they needed to hire a janitor. He did not say this out loud of course; he sensed that Jack would not be pleased of his many criticisms that he was already coming up. There were pizza boxes stacked up against the wall and the garbage can was overflowing with takeout boxes and Starbuck's cups. His only reaction was to wrinkle his nose slightly.

"This is Suzie, my second in command." Suzie barely glanced up at him as she waved a hand in his general direction. "Owen's our medic." The man in question hadn't even bothered looking up from the game of minesweeper he was losing at. "Tosh is our computer genius." She looked up at him and flashed a shy smile at him. "And I'm Captain Jack Harkness, the leader."

"Ianto Jones." He said shortly. "Archivist and all around support."

The only thing that Jack showed him was the archives which were a mess. He bit back a groan as he looked around him. Jack had deposited him and left him there, not that surprised him. He was trying to make this as difficult as possible. Ianto was amused by his effort, but he wasn't going to be deterred by it. If he could survive even his best friends turning on him during his fourth year than he could certainly survive random strangers making life difficult for him.

The archives were covered in dust and there were boxes stacked to the ceiling that looked to be a mix of various documents, receipts perhaps, and artifacts. The many shelves seemed to have artifacts haphazardly thrown in.

"Good Merlin, when's the last time anyone sorted through this mess?" He muttered distractedly as he unloaded a box. He decided that first he would start with the documents and their sorting; he would acquire a filing cabinet or three later, he decided.

Several hours later, he had sorted a box of documents based off of type and then date within the type. He carefully stacked them back in the box and set it aside. He realized that he would have to make sure that they had been logged on the archive mainframe, which he highly doubted considering the state of things. He would have his work cut out for him.

He realized upon leaving that either they'd gotten an alarm or that Jack had already sent the rest of the team home. Since he could see movement in Jack's office, he was leaning more towards the latter than the former. His eye twitched in irritation, but he gave no other indication of his annoyance. Instead, he headed into the kitchenette to see what needed to be done there. One broken coffee machine, a bag of expired beans, and a package of musty filters later, he realized he was going to have to restock the kitchen.

The refrigerator was largely empty with only a jar of moldy mayonnaise and a bag of rotten apples in it. He trashed those and set about cleaning out the inside of the refrigerator. It was unhygienic the way they had kept the kitchenette and he intended to change that. While he was at it, he cleaned the rest of the small room and made sure all of the dishes were spotless.

By the time he was finished, it was nearing one in the morning.

Surveying the nearly spotless room, he tied up the full rubbish bag and grabbed another and set about cleaning up the Hub and disposing the garbage in the main area. he also cleaned all of the wrappers and cans off of his colleagues desks but left everything else alone. Honestly, the way his colleagues ate it was a wonder they weren't all fat. He supposed it had something to do with the job, but he honestly didn't see how they managed. Surely they didn't get that much exercise.

He was nearly finished and it was nearing four in the morning when Jack finally showed his face outside of his office. He seemed surprised to see that Ianto was still there.

"Shouldn't you have gone home by now?"

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Why?" He asked calmly. Truthfully, he wasn't feeling all that tired. He couldn't sleep without help to start with and when he did it was never long. He had too many nightmares to sleep easily.

"It's nearly four in the morning."

"Yet here we are." Ianto pointed out. "I don't sleep much."

"See that it doesn't affect your work."

Once again, he might have been annoyed considering the sheer hipocrisy of that statement, but Hogwarts had jaded him to a lot of things. Even at Torchwood One he hadn't really fit in. Then again, the knowledge that the slightest screw-up could cost his memories, he'd been more concerned with his work than anything.

"Don't worry, sir. It won't." He said flatly.

He wasn't surprised when Jack chose not to push the issue. Silently, he tied that bag off as well, grabbed the other two bags, and hauled them up to the trash can. He then proceeded to dim the lights in the Hub and turn off the lights everywhere else before heading home.

A quick meal and a shower later, he was downing a dreamless sleep potion and going to sleep. Three hours later, he was up and ready to get on with his day.

He dropped by the grocery store on the way and picked up several things for the kitchenette: fruits, vegetables, sandwich meat, and salad dressings to name a few. Even if his colleagues preferred take out, he preferred healthier things. He also purchased coffee grounds, filters, a name brand coffee maker, and several flavors of syrups. He lived off of coffee and if their trash can was anything to go by, so did they.

It took him two trips to carry everything in and put them away. Afterwards, he carefully measured out the coffee grinds to make a pot. He considered himself something of an expert at coffee making.

Eventually, the others arrived and he plied them with coffee. It wasn't that he really wanted to share his coffee, it was just that it was the polite thing to do and he had no intention of sinking down to their level. Tosh was the only one to thank him for making coffee and as a consequence he figured out her favorite way of drinking it and prepared it that way for her.

The first time they got called away to chase after weevils, Tosh stayed with him to show him how to work the CCTV. Apparently in Torchwood Three, everyone chipped in and helped whenever it was required of them. It made them a more close-knit group, but it had the down-side of none of them being really being field agents apart from Jack, which showed, sadly enough.

Ianto also found himself saddled with most of the paperwork done around the Hub apart from Tosh. She sometimes came down into the archives and helped him log things. She wasn't the most outspoken of the group but they developed a quiet steady friendship.

Suzie did most of her work and was very rarely found doing anything else. While she wasn't outright with her dislike of Ianto, she made it quite clear that she didn't want him near her station.

Owen would have been completely useless to the team if he wasn't such a good medic. He was generally the last to arrive and the first to leave, crass and annoying as hell, and when he wasn't performing autopsies, he was watching porn or playing online games.

Jack was perhaps the laziest person Ianto had ever met, and that was with knowing Ron. He had to be told repeatedly to turn in paperwork or even just to take a look at it and he flirted shamelessly with all of his team. Except Ianto.

He wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or relieved by that. On one hand, he had always considered himself straight. Cho had been his first date, and he had loved Ginny of course. He'd been about to propose to Lisa when she'd broken things off shortly before his transferal. All in all, the fact that he felt attracted to his boss was weirding him out. He was quite thankful that thus far, Jack was content to ignore him apart from his coffee.

XXXXX

He had been devastated when he heard about Canary Wharf, but he'd also been glad that he hadn't been there. It also meant that Yvonne couldn't blackmail him anymore.

He felt it the second the glove had entered the hub. It was sort of a tickling sensation at the nape of his neck that told him that something that landed under his jurisdiction had entered the building.

As far as he could figure, willingly sacrificing himself alone would have guaranteed him that first get out of death free card. That combined with the fact that he owned the deathly hallows, well, he had a permanent escape from death. That had been particularly frustrating because he'd been committing suicide when he'd discovered it. Since then he'd done a bit of testing, hoping in vain that he'd actually stay dead.

No such luck. He'd finally given up.

He had discovered upon joining Torchwood London that he had an affinity with artifacts that dealt with death. Ianto had hidden that of course. The last thing he needed was to become their lab rat.

The last gift he had was that he instinctively knew when people were going to die. Now how or where, but he knew the time down to the last second.

Jack was different. He had more than one expiration date.

When he finally got his hands on the glove, he spent a good hour just staring at it.

"Are you quite done staring at that?" Suzie finally snapped in irritation.

He glanced up sharply at her. "It's addictive, isn't it?" He said solemnly. "You can't get it out of your head no matter how hard you try."

"H-how did you know?" She couldn't stop the slight tremble in her voice.

"I can sense it." He explained. "Let me archive it. It'll save both of us trouble."

Suzie frantically shook her head. "No!" She snarled, her face suddenly twisting into a violent mockery of it's normal smiling self. "I need it! I need to find out what it does!"

When he tried to tell Jack, he had thrown him out of his office and told him to stop wasting his time. They both had the same death date. Ianto had a bad feeling that he knew what was going to happen. Suzie would kill Jack, not knowing of his immortality, and then Jack would kill her.

A plan had formed in his mind when Gwen Cooper entered the picture. Jack would take her on the tour and she would see the knife that he knew Suzie was using. Hopefully she would remember it because it was a very odd looking knife. She would put pieces together and figure out it was a member of Torchwood and would come to investigate. Ianto figured by that point that Suzie was screwed no matter what happened. She was a murderer, so she'd either be executed or retconned into a vegetable state. While he did feel sorry for her, he had little sympathy because she had ignored all of his warnings about the damned thing and had resisted every effort of his to reclaim it.

Then Jack retconned Gwen.

Damn.

He had been quite annoyed when Jack had ordered him to delete anything Gwen had written to remind herself. He thought it sad that everyone depended on technology these days. If it had been him, he would have written it down using pen and paper, or he would have removed the memories and stored them in his pensieve and left a reminder to check it.

His only hope now was that the picture of the knife that he'd anonymously sent into the police would trigger some residual memories or something.

The next evening, both Jack and Suzie had died and it was him that was stuck cleaning up the mess that Gwen bloody Cooper had caused.

"Why the hell did she just stand there?" He groused as he violently scrubbed at a large patch of dried blood. "She's supposedly a trained police officer but she just stood there!" He knew in the back of his mind that he was trying to misplace the blame on the former cop who had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_If only I had tried harder. I could have stopped this._

If only he had pushed Jack harder at getting the glove taken away from her. If only he had taken the glove away from her when he'd first realized what was going on. So many if only's; it was driving him mad but he couldn't stop.

And then there was Gwen. It bothered him how easily Suzie had been replaced, and by someone so incompetent as well. Gwen, despite the fact that she was the 'humanity' of the team had no problem following everyone else's example of completely ignoring Ianto unless she needed coffee or clothes repaired.

What was more, she couldn't shoot. Ianto had always thought that coppers were taught to shoot, even if they didn't actually carry a gun. It was rather stupid to just give them batons and expect them to fend off shooters with one.

Furthermore, she had no compunctions complaining about their techniques and telling them that they shouldn't do this that and the other. Apparently the words 'above the police and beyond the government' hadn't sunk in. Harry wished that the Order had been like that, but alas they hadn't. They'd all been tried for crimes committed during the war. He had gotten the worst of it.

Ianto had not been with them when Gwen had released the sex gas. He was thankful for that because he doubted he would have been able to stop himself from doing something drastic. He found it odd that none of the others were perturbed by her ineptitude up until that point. Then he found it hypocritical when they turned on her to varying degrees.

Hypocrites.

Now he was thankful that none of them were actually his friends. The last thing he needed was friends who would turn on him the second he messed up. He'd had more than enough of that from the Weasley's and Granger.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry Potter, PI<strong>

**Harry Potter/Torchwood**

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><p>Harry ducked his head as he walked. It was starting to rain. Bloody Cardiff. He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd moved there. Oh yeah, no one would think to look for him in Cardiff. After all, no sane person would willingly live in Cardiff. He was flat hunting at the moment and had high hopes for the one that he'd heard about in the paper.<p>

Most of the others he'd been to had been to expensive for him to even consider or he hadn't liked the landlords or landladies. There was one he might have considered if not for the fact the other tenants had been rude and loud. Harry was looking for a quiet place where he could live and operate his little business from.

He took a moment to examine the building in front of him before knocking on the door and pulling his jacket tighter around his body. It took a moment for it to open and a young man to peer out.

"Can I help you?" Harry couldn't get over the Welsh accents. They had an almost lyrical quality which contrasted sharply with his own southern British accent.

"Yeah, I'm here about the flat for rent." He answered as he looked up from staring at the ground. He blinked rain out of his eyes.

"Come in, then." The door was held wide open and Harry followed him in.

"Ianto Jones." His host introduced himself as he led him into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Please." Harry took a moment to examine him. He was surprised about the fact that they both appeared to be about the same age. Or at least they would if Harry had actually aged since dying at the tender age of seventeen. It was such a pain trying to get drinks. "Harry Potter, by the way."

"You should have called before coming. I would have cleaned the place up first." Harry raised an eyebrow upon hearing this and glanced around him. The kitchen was pristine as far as he was concerned.

"'S alright." He said as he sipped his coffee. His eyebrows shot up as he tasted it. It was truly delicious coffee and he could say that because he was an exceptional cook and could make a mean cup himself. "This is good!" He exclaimed delightedly.

"I work long hours so there are days where I likely won't be in before midnight, and there are times when I'll have to leave in the middle of the night." Ianto said as he sipped his own coffee.

"That won't be a problem." Harry assured him. "I work strange hours myself." He considered telling him that he had Fatal Familial Insomnia but decided to wait until he decided one way or another about the flat.

Once they finished their coffee, Ianto led Harry upstairs. "This is where you'd be living." The room itself was tastefully done in cream and dark blue.

"I like it." Harry commented.

"You've already seen the kitchen, the bathroom is next door. My room is across from yours, and next to it is a small closet with cleaning supplies." Ianto said as he showed him each of the rooms. They walked back downstairs and Ianto continued the tour. "Sitting room, you have free use of the telly if you wish. You can do your laundry back there." He indicated a door on the other side of the sitting room.

"I think I'll take it." Harry commented as he looked around him with a pleased expression. "I hope you don't mind, but I sort of run a small business. If you object I could always rent a small office, but…" He trailed off.

Ianto was looking at him a bit strangely. "No offence, but aren't you a little young-?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm twenty-six. I know, I get that a lot." He said upon seeing Ianto's disbelieving look.

"So what do you do?"

"I'm sort of what you would call a Private Investigator, I suppose." Harry answered as he ran a hand through his hair. "I do specialty cases."

"I'm a Civil Servant." Ianto replied casually.

Harry nodded, lost in thought. "I suppose I'll be bringing in my things tomorrow, if that won't bother you."

"Not at all, if you need help, I'd be happy to."

Harry shook his head with a smile. "I don't have much, so it shouldn't take more than a trip or two." He did not add that he moved around a lot and couldn't really stay in the same place long in any case.

"Shall we go back into the kitchen and sort out all of the paperwork?" Ianto suggested. Harry nodded and followed him back into the kitchen.

"So do you cook or do I get to find for myself."

Ianto glanced over at him. "I eat out a lot."

Harry shook his head quickly. "That won't do at all." He muttered to himself. "I can cook, so if you'd like me to do so for the both of us-?"

"I would happily knock a small portion of your rent off if you'd do so." Ianto told him with a grateful smile.

"Excellent. It's been awhile since I've had someone to cook for." Harry said with a pleased expression.

An hour later, Harry was bidding good-bye. "I'll drop bye tomorrow morning, sometime." He said.

"I'll be waiting for you with a fresh pot of coffee."

Ianto closed the door behind the young man and leaned against it with a sigh. He'd thought having someone else around would fill the loneliness that not having Lisa around had created. He was starting to have his regrets. He was tired from just spending an hour around someone else hiding the hurt inside. It had only been a week. A long, lonely, pain-filled week. He was not ready to be around other people.

Still, there was a part that was happy about having someone else around. Perhaps his new tenant could take his mind off of everything. He had proven to be an interesting person from what Ianto had seen. The only problem he could see was that if Harry was some sort of specialty private investigator then there was a chance that the two might run into each other at crime scenes.

With a sigh, he prepared for bed. He would worry about that tomorrow.

XXXXX

Harry showed up bright and early with a bag of bagels and a container of cream cheese and a small package of mixed fresh fruit. He knocked on the door and let himself in. True to his word, there was a pot of freshly brewed coffee sitting on the counter. Harry poured himself and Ianto a cup and fixed himself a bagel topped with cream cheese and blueberries.

He was halfway through his bagel when Ianto entered.

"Morning." Harry said cheerfully. "I brought breakfast."

Ianto paused a moment before settling down and fixing himself a bagel as well. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you need help bringing your things in?"

Harry shook his head. "The only things I've really got are clothes and my electronic gizmos."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You don't carry around much, do you?"

"Side affect of living on the run." Harry said with a shrug.

"This isn't going to come back and haunt me, is it?"

"I shouldn't think so." Harry replied with a slight frown. He rather hoped that the idiots wouldn't be stupid enough to harm a muggle. Then again, he had to do a massive obligate on the last one he'd roomed with because they had performed magic in front of him.

Ianto did end up helping bring his things in, not that he had had much. He had three boxes of neatly folded clothes, a box filled with odd looking odds and ends, and a box with books.

Harry spent most of the day unpacking his things and making sure things were just the way he wanted to do them. Just as he was finishing, his cellphone rang. With a glare at it, he answered.

"Potter speaking."

"Hello, Harry." Ahh, Hermione.

"What can I do for you?"

"Vampire, it looks like. Something is ripping throats in downtown Cardiff."

"How'd you know that's where I was?"

"Lucky guess."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Harry trotted downstairs after kitting himself out. "I'm heading out." He called through the house. "Should be back in a bit."

He was out the door in a flurry of the duster he was wearing. There was actually a very good reason he wore it on missions. It was warded to prevent werewolves from biting him as well as a whole host of other things woven into the fabric. The fact that he looked awesome in it had nothing at all to do with it.

Ten minutes later, he was staring in shock at possibly the ugliest thing he'd ever seen, and that was counting the blast-ended skrewts. "What the hell are you?" He asked as he warily circled around it. "And why have I never ran into you or heard of you."

He was wary of using tranqs. He didn't particularly want to accidentally kill it by pumping it full of enough tranqs to knock out a raging werewolf.

This left him with one option - knock it out the hard way. "Bugger." he muttered, "I don't suppose you'd just come along quietly?" Thus far, it was making no move other than watching him. "You're remarkably calm for having just met." He started to reach for it and it acted by lunging at him.

"Hah!" Harry crowed as he backpedalled away from it. "So you do like to fight. What a coincidence. So do I. And if you do manage to knock me out, well, I consider that a plus."

He was really getting into it when the sound of SUV startled both of them. "Torchwood?" He muttered. "What the hell's Torchwood?"

The…thing took his distraction to its advantage and attacked him, trying to bite through his duster and dragging him to the ground. "Knew that would come in useful." He muttered as it was forcibly pulled off of him.

"Are you okay?" A concerned female asked as she knelt beside him.

"I've been through worse. Dare I ask what that was?"

"Weevil." An American voice interrupted their conversation. "Get him in the car. Owen, I wanted him checked out."

"I'm fine." Harry said indignantly as he was pulled to his feet. "Not even a scratch."

Before he could protest, he was bundled in the SUV with an unconscious weevil.

"So what were you doing there?" The American asked.

"Vampire hunting." Harry said with a straight face.

There was a derisive snort from the passenger seat. "Vampires."

"Hey, they do exist." The American remarked.

"So do I get to know your names or do I get to make up insulting nicknames?" Introductions were passed around. "So what does Torchwood do, anyway?" He asked curiously.

"Alien scavenging mostly." Tosh said without looking up from her laptop.

"Ahh." Harry murmured. He considered that a moment. It wasn't that much of a stretch to believe in aliens when one had seen the things he'd seen. Besides, those ghostly things that had popped up earlier that year hadn't been very well explained. "Explains a bit."

"It does?" The young woman on his other side, Gwen, sounded surprised.

"You'd have to be awfully stupid to believe those metal things were hallucinations." Harry answered. "'Sides, I've seen real ghosts and even they were terrified by that."

"Real ghosts?" Jack was looking back at him through the rearview mirror.

"Yep." He chose not to elaborate on that.

Harry couldn't help but voice his skepticism when they arrived at the Hub. "A secret organization under a popular landmark? Next thing you know they'll have bloody dinosaurs as pets."

"About that-"

"I hate it when I'm right."

In the end, Harry was given a clean bill of health, much to Owen's surprise. "-the hell? That thing was practically chewing on you!"

"Must be something in the water." Harry replied with a straight face.

"Could give Teaboy a run for his money." The medic grumbled under his breath.

"Fancy a tour?" Jack asked.

"Depends. Are you gonna kill me?" Harry asked as he took in the hub. The others were hard at work at what was presumably heir workstations. He was disgusted at their cleanliness or lack thereof. "Christ, you need a janitor." He muttered as he wrinkled his nose in disdain.

"He's been suspended." There was definitely a story behind that, but he wasn't going to ask.

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt but said nothing.

"This way. I'll show you the weevil you tussled."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think I got a close enough look, thanks. Looked like a klingon's backside."

Jack snorted.

XXXXX

A bit later, Harry was sitting across from Jack sipping a mug of Coffee. "You put something in this didn't you?" He commented as he took a sip.

"No."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "You're lying." This knowledge did not stop him from taking another swallow of the coffee.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Harry snorted.

"You don't seem too worried." Jack observed.

Harry shrugged. "'S just memory loss. Could be a helluva lot worse. 'Sides, I figure I'll remember the next time that I run into one of those things."

"I could be planning on leaving you in London." Jack informed him.

Harry snorted. "It would be a moot point. My flatmate might get a bit suspicious. Besides, I have a friend in the government who might wonder why I've just landed in London with no memory of how I got there."

He yawned slightly and adopted a surprised look on his face. "Sedative?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Me to know and you to wonder about." Harry said cheerfully. "Guess I'd better get going. Wouldn't want to pass out in the street or something."

"Oh I'd be happy to take you home."

"Are you flirting with me?" Harry asked incredulously. "At least buy me dinner first before trying to get into my pants."

"Shame."

"Oh I'm sure we'll be seeing each other." Harry said wryly. "For now, I'm going home to sleep."

It was such a shame that he hadn't put enough sedatives in his drink, Harry reflected three hours later. It had been just enough to make his eyelids a bit droopy but not much more. One had to use enough sedatives to down an elephant to affect him, although a dose of dreamless sleep potion usually worked fairly well.

Finally giving up on getting knocked out, he dragged his laptop towards him and logged on to shoot Hermione a quick email giving her a very brief summary of what happened.

**Wasn't vampires. It was some sort of alien that looked like the backside of a Klingon and had a temper to match. Ran into some group called Torchwood. Next time I see their wonderful leader, I'm going to have to tell him to triple the sedative dosage for the amnesia pill cause it wasn't enough. Frankly, I would've welcomed the nap.**

He wasn't expecting a reply any time soon, so he pulled up his website and set about updating it and changing his contact information. He generally had to do that every six months or so because the wizarding world was still trying to catch him. Still, the fervor seemed to have died down a bit. At least it was only twice a year now as opposed to every couple of months.

Harry wasn't too concerned about losing his memories. It wasn't the first time it had happened and it had certainly ceased bothering him. With that thought in mind, he dug out one of his vials of modified dreamless sleep potions and chugged it. It was out of it before his head even hit the pillow.

XXXXX

It did not take Harry long to realize that his roommate had been suspended. It also did not escape his notice that his roommate was barely holding himself together. Harry was acquainted with death enough to know when someone was trying to deal with death and failing at it. The fact that Ianto was suffering from night terrors and seemed to have relapses wherein he thought that Harry was someone else added considerably to this. He could kill whoever Ianto's boss was. The man was not coping well at all. He rather reminded Harry of himself after the war was finished.

"Have you thought about seeing someone?"

"I'm fine." Ianto muttered as he picked at his lasagna.

Harry snorted quietly. "No you're not. You're exactly like I was when I realized that my boyfriend was going to be a vegetable for the rest of his life."

Ianto raised his head up to look at him.

"Sometimes just talking about it helps." Harry murmured quietly. "Brings closure."

"I don't need your help." Ianto snapped at him.

"If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. I won't judge you by anything you've done." Harry collected the plates and washed them in the sink by hand.

"Her name was Lisa…."

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><p><strong>Prisoner X<strong>

**Torchwood/Doctor Who**

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><p>Ianto Jones glanced up sharply as he heard screams from down the hall. He looked around the archives to see what the other reactions would be. He could see surprise and fear as the most dominant emotion. He found his gaze sliding over to his guard who was paying little attention to him.<p>

"Roberts, get him down to his cell." Tamara, the head of the Research and Development Department ordered.

Michael Roberts nodded and grasped his elbow. "Come on Jones. 'S back to the cell for you."

Ianto sighed inwardly but made no attempt to escape. The two hurried down another hall to a door that was passlocked and nearly impossible to hack. After a password, both of their handprints scanned, and an eye scan, the two were through the door.

"Any idea what's going on?" Ianto asked conversationally as he allowed himself to be locked in his cell.

"None at all. I'm just a guard." Michael said. Ianto certainly wasn't the only prisoner there, but he was one of the few who seemed to have an inkling about anything happening.

"You're back early." Lisa Hallet, from one cell over remarked as she pressed up against the wall.

"Something's happened." Ianto murmured. "We could hear screaming."

"And they're just gonna leave us here aren't they." She was bitter; they all were. At one time, everyone in here had led a normal life. Now they belonged to Torchwood.

He cocked his head to one side as he heard faint sounds of a commotion outside. He thought he heard the words 'Delete' and 'upgrade'. Cybermen.

"They're here." He murmured fearfully.

A moment later, the Cyberman did indeed enter. "Everyone will receive an upgrade and become human point two. Resist and be deleted."

Most resisted. Ianto and Lisa both chose not to. "Do you think you can stop it?" Lisa murmured in an undertone to Ianto.

Ianto shook his head. "You know the only person that my abilities work is myself, Lisa." He said quietly. They were marched up two flights of stares and into a room with several conversion units.

"Oh god." Lisa murmured as they stared in horror at what was happening before them. She whimpered and clutched desperately at Ianto, even as they were separated and forced into lines.

He could not bear to watch as she was strapped into the conversion unit. The two had been longtime friends, and he didn't want to see her go in such a way. All too soon, he was being strapped into a conversion unit himself. He watched in muted terror as the blades descended. He was saved a gruesome death and a possible conversion by the arrival of a Dalek.

The Cybermen were easily defeated, but then they started on the humans and those that were on the conversion beds. The only reason Ianto survived was because he was very good at playing dead, even when they checked his vitals to make sure he was dead.

Ianto realized that he needed to get out of the conversion unit and quickly before he too was sucked into wherever they were going. Getting free was by no means easy, but he did manage once he'd managed to cut his wrists enough to get them slick enough with blood to slide through.

He managed to roll off of the conversion unit just before it went through to the void and laid there on the ground panting from the effort and the agony of his wrists.

"Are you alright?" A concerned voice asked after a moment. The voice sounded raw, as if he had just lost something.

"Much better now that I'm not about to be sucked in." Ianto replied. Finally he was able to roll over and look up.

"I'm the Doctor by the way."

"Jones, Ianto Jones." Ianto replied. "I suppose I need a doctor. He held up his bloodied wrists as explanation at the Doctor's unasked question.

"Hang on; I'm sure I can find someone." He pulled Ianto to his feet and guided him out the door. They walked silently side by side while Ianto applied pressure with some difficulty to his wrists. He would've just healed them, but that would lead to questions.

"I think I'm crashing from an adrenaline rush." Ianto murmured as he walked.

"Or you're going into shock." The Doctor suggested.

After a few minutes of searching, they found someone. "We need a medic or something." The Doctor said worriedly. Ianto was looking pale by this point.

"Follow me." The young woman ordered. "Suzie by the way."

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Ianto." The Doctor said as they walked behind her. She led them out of Canary Wharf to a small tent.

"Found two." She announced as she ushered them in.

"He needs it more than I." The Doctor informed them. He planned to slip off and go back in. He needed to make sure that Torchwood had no potentially deadly weapons.

"Alright, kit off." Ianto blinked at him before complying.

Stripping in front of strangers was something one got used to when belonging to Torchwood One. "What were you doing, trying to commit suicide?" Doctor Owen asked in disbelief when he examined his wrists.

"Escaping a conversion unit, actually." Ianto said mildly. "Didn't particularly feel like getting sucked into the void."

"Don't blame you on that." Ianto's wrists were treated and bandaged, but that was pretty much all that was wrong with him, and once he was alone, not even that.

"All done." Owen said finally. "UNIT's collecting the survivors over there." He indicated another tent. "Head on over. Change those bandages at least twice a day and if they start swelling, treat them to an alcohol bath." Owen ordered.

Ianto nodded and exited the tent. He had no intention of going over to the UNIT tent. Torchwood had been more than enough for him. There was no way in hell he was hanging out long enough for them to get ahold of him. With that thought in mind, he yanked the bandages off of his wrists and willed his skin to knit itself together. He had no idea where his abilities had come from, but he had not intention of ever being taken captive because of them again.

* * *

><p><strong>Past Intentions<strong>

**Harry Potter**

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><p>Harry Potter, or Harry Devons as he was legally known as, ignored the bustling of the train station around him. It was September first and he was starting his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, not that he really needed to. He had been largely home-schooled, but the new regime required all students seventeen and under to attend a ministry approved magical school, thus Harry found himself attending an actual school for the first and last time in his life. He had already made plans for after his Graduation - a university located in Queens, Australia that specialized in Animal Magic. Technically, Harry could have went this year, but laws were laws and it would require far too much effort to get himself exempt as well as draw entirely too much interest in himself and his father.<p>

"Your mind is drifting again." Castiel chided his son as the two passed easily through the barrier. "Keep it on task, lest you let something slip."

"Sorry; it won't happen again." Castiel did not like listening to excuses, therefore Harry found it less troublesome to simply apologize and be done with it.

"See that it doesn't." The two stopped in front of the scarlet train. "It will be quiet without you around." Castiel looked troubled over that. He was about three inches taller than Harry's respectable 5'11. His white blond hair marked him as not actually being related to Harry as did his deep grey eyes.

"I'm sure it will. Try not to blow the lab up, please." Harry's dry response caused him to smile somewhat bitterly.

"Good luck, my son. Make me proud." The two hugged awkwardly for a moment before Harry turned and boarded the train. By the time he had settled in an empty compartment, his father had vanished as if he'd never been there.

Harry fought back a wave of sadness. Having spent over a decade learning from the man, the knew he would miss him greatly. Still, it was time to move on. Castiel was known for taking on lost causes so he would likely have a new child to keep him company by this time next week. Harry had long ago grown past any jealousy that not being his only charge had caused.

"Is anyone else sitting here?" A rather fetching young woman was standing awkwardly in the isle. Harry waved her in. He had no intention of doing much befriending, but there was no point in being rude. "My name is Hermione." She looked pensive for a moment, as if not sure whether to ask him something or not. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you."

"Harry Devons. I was homeschooled." Harry answered shortly as he pulled out a thick book for Herbology. "The Schooling Act is forcing me to attend this year." His lips twisted in a slight sneer, even as he noticed the scandalized look on her face.

"Why wouldn't you attend Hogwarts? It's the greatest magical school in the world!" Harry decided that a flustered Hermione looked kind of cute.

"I have had magical schooling in many countries due to my father's penchant for traveling." He replied casually as he leaned forward and clasped his hands under his chin. His unruly black hair fell over his eyes, rather neatly hiding the faint black scar on his forehead. His brilliant green eyes were dimmed somewhat by contacts, making his eyes more of a moss green than emerald.

"Really? What countries?" Hermione was eagerly staring at him. Neither of them had noticed the train starting to move.

Harry paused thoughtfully. He wasn't intending to tell her all of the countries he'd been to, but there were a few 'safe' countries where he couldn't have learned any of the lesser known skills. "France, Italy, Greece, Belgian, Denmark, Ireland, Canada, Brazil, and New Zealand." Some like New Zealand did teach slighted darker material than was considered acceptable in the British Isles, but it was nothing like the things he'd learned in such countries as Germany, Austria, and Romania.

"Did you learn their languages?" Harry blinked in surprise. He'd just listed off a handful of different cultures and she wanted to know if he'd learned the bloody languages?

"I am passable at most of the languages I know save English." Indeed he had learned enough of the languages to not make a complete fool of himself, but he was by no means competent, much less fluent.

Soon the two were deeply immersed in cultures, both wizarding and mundane, as he'd insisted the non-magical world be called. They were rudely interrupted by a group of four boys.

"There you are, Hermione." Another boy, a seventh year by the looks of it was standing there. Behind him were three other boys. "Listen, we need your help with our homework; we didn't understand some of it."

Harry's companion huffed in annoyance and made to stand, but Harry stayed her with a hand on her knee. "Didn't understand it or were too busy playing that silly sport of yours to do it?" Harry quirked an eyebrow at the other teen.

"Devons. Why are you here?"

"Simple, Carter. Thanks to that new piece of legislation passed three weeks ago, I am now required to attend. Hogwarts is simply a means to an end."

"Hermione, you don't want to hang out with him. His father is a supporter of you-know-who." Carter glared briefly at him before turning his attention back to Hermione. "The freak was practically throwing himself on Malfoy."

"My father has better taste than that." Was Harry's mild retort. "As it is, neither of us are supporters. We are neutral if you must know. Care to introduce us?" He asked as his gaze lingered on the three boys standing behind Carter.

Carter's lips curled somewhat, but he did as Harry had requested. "Ron Weasley." Ron was tall, red-headed, and seemed to have a slight aversion to exercise. "Seamus Finnigan." Seamus looked about average with sandy brown hair. "Dean Thomas." Dean looked to be the most athletic of the four. He was tall, thin, and black.

"Football?" Harry asked after a moment of scrutiny. His question was met with an answering grin.

"Better than Quidditch." Came the cheerful response.

"American Football is better than Quidditch." Was Harry's sardonic response. The two shared a quick laugh. "Now then, no offense to everyone, but could you bugger off? The lady and I were having an enlightening discussion before you arrived." He was rewarded with a squeak and a blush from Hermione.

With a final glare, and a few audible mutterings of things about death eaters, Voldemort, and slytherin, Carter and his little group wandered off.

"How do you know them?" Hermione asked curiously as she relaxed in the seat across from him.

"Social functions mostly. I just hope Draco doesn't decide to say hello." Harry answered with a slight grimace. "He's seventeen and he still plays the 'my father' game. He's an embarrassment to politicians everywhere."

This drew a slight smile from Hermione. "So you're into politics?" Harry glanced up at her when he noted the slight unhappiness in her tone.

"To a point, certainly. I'm not a pureblood fanatic if that's what you're concerned about." His lips quirked at her relieved smile. "I will say that this war is much more complicated than many are led to believe, which is partly why I'm neutral. There are issues for both sides I agree with."

Hermione looked curious, but before she could ask, the lunch trolley stopped outside of their compartment. Neither of them seemed inclined to get up and get anything from the lunch trolley, although Hermione did notice a rather distinct sneer on his face as he looked over the profferings.

"What?" Hermione could see nothing wrong with the trolley.

"Lots of sweets, six more hours on the train, no healthy food, and no drinks." Harry answered with a glare. "It's like they want us to be fat, sugar-high, dehydrated buffoons." Hermione couldn't help but agree despite the fact that she'd never really thought about it before.

Not long after, Draco Malfoy showed up with his two book ends. "Devons, mudblood." He greeted as he shoved his way in.

"Your roots are showing, Malfoy." Harry remarked casually.

Hermione stared between them in confusion. The odd comment had Malfoy flushing red and glaring at Harry.

"You dare-" He started before being interrupted.

"Yes, I do, as a matter of fact." Harry put in helpfully, green eyes glimmering in undisguised amusement.

"When my father-"

Harry huffed in exasperation. "Not this again." He groaned as he buried his head in his hands. "Draco, my father holds more political clout than yours, but neither of them are here. Would it kill you to stand up on your own rather than leaning on your father's cane?"

Hermione couldn't stop herself from giggling at the goldfish impression that Draco was doing. Even Harry was smiling over that.

"Unless you've got something important to say, I suggest you leave." Harry ordered, all amusement gone in an instant. With one final glare, Draco stalked out, followed by the two apes behind him.

"So you're a new student; what house do you think you'll be in?" Hermione asked after a few minutes of silence.

Harry jerked up, as if he'd forgotten about her. "Yes; I'm going into seventh year." He answered as he pondered the question of houses. "As for houses-" He shrugged somewhat indifferently. "I find the whole house idea ludicrous at best and could care less where they put me."

"But, the houses are like an extended family." Hermione was once again looking horrified.

"I'm not much of a social person, though I can certainly hold my own in a conversation." Harry answered thoughtfully. "Frankly, I hope to land in Ravenclaw or possibly Slytherin. At least in those two houses solitude is expected."

"But You-Know-Who recruits from Slytherin." Hermione looked almost desperate to convey this.

"Have you actually met Voldemort?" Harry asked with a wry smile. "Because I have." He leaned forward. "He's not at all like the media paints him to be."

Her eyes widened exponentially. "You've met-?" Her voice came out as barely above a whisper.

"Definitely." He agreed. "He's quite the charmer. I'd join him if I weren't so keen on keeping out of this war until one side or another wins."

"How can you say that? He murders non-purebloods.

Harry snorted at that. "No he doesn't." He disagreed. "He's been as good as running this country for the past year. Have you seen any evidence of him doing these so-called muggleborn round-ups?"

"Well, we're safe. We're in Hogwarts." Hermione pointed out.

"For three months of the year, you live in the muggle world. Don't even tell me he can't navigate the muggle world because he owns a number of businesses and corporations."

"He...does?"

"Oh yes, where on earth do you think he gets his funding from?" Harry was looking at her oddly.

"His minions?"

Harry snorted again. "They're rich, but not that rich, Hermione." He said dryly. "Voldemort sees the use in muggleborns. If anything, it's purebloods he's wiping out, and I can see why. They're all blind idiots who can't see beyond the prejudices that were instilled upon them as children; look around you, how many purebloods are related to one another?"

"Most, I think." Hermione offered timidly.

He nodded empathetically. "How many make marriage arrangements with other purebloods?"

"Think about it, Hermione. They're inbreeding. In another four generations or so, they'll be reduced to marrying first cousins. Three generations after that and they'll be marrying their siblings."

Hermione looked sick at that.

"The thing is, most don't even know why that's a bad thing. Mention inbreeding and genetics to most and they'll give you a dumb look." He continued.

"That's...disgusting!"

"Won't argue there. The most powerful wizards are wizards who have either a muggle and a magical, or a magical and a muggleborn."

"What about Dumbledore? He's a pureblood, isn't he?"

"Oh yes. Magically he's not powerful but he makes up for it by displays of party tricks disguised as power and he has precision."

The two settled into a comfortable silence as they read. After a few minutes, Harry dug out a highlighter and a pen. Hermione looked surprised to see the muggle utensils but did not comment on it. Harry proceeded to underline things, mark things out, and write little notes in the margins.

"We're almost there." Hermione said several hours later.

Harry snapped the book shut and tucked the writing utensils back in his pocket and put the book in his trunk. He left for the loo to give Hermione a chance to change into her robes while he did the same.

All to soon, the train was pulling into the station and students were disembarking. A loud voice carried over the noise. "New students over 'ere!" With a sigh Harry started weaving his way through the crowds to ward the voice.

Harry found himself in a boat with a sixth year and two first years. "I'm Harry Devons." He introduced himself.

"Alex Buckles." The sixth year introduced himself. He was a bit shorter than Harry, and seemed to be grinning about some private joke that only he knew all the time.

"Kendra Rice." One of the first years said shyly. She was tanned and looked like she played sports.

"Tristan Kent." The other first year said imperiously. Harry raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Clearly he was a pureblood judging by the attitude, so most likely a Slytherin in the making.

When they came into view of Hogwarts, Harry snorted at the awed looks on the firsties. It was an impressive looking castle, to be certain. But to one who had travelled the world as extensively as he had, a mere castle wasn't something to get excited over.

The students were led into a small alcove wherein Professor McGonagall proceeded to explain a few things about Hogwarts to them. Harry, for the most part, ignored her.

"So why do you think that act was passed?" Alex asked him as they waited.

"If I were to guess, I would say that someone very important was trying to transfer and someone didn't like that." Harry answered. "My father and I have spent the last three weeks researching laws and such. What they are doing is actually illegal according to the Charter between the magical world and the Queen's Law."

"Really." Alex looked vaguely skeptical. "Why would they do that?"

"Desperation." Came the calm answer.

"So if it's illegal, why hasn't anyone tried to contest it?"

"Politics." Harry answered with a faint smile. "To contest it would risk exposure to the mundane world. We may be separate from them, but we are still bound first and foremost by the Queen's Laws. Should the Queen find out, things could get very nasty very fast."

"But doesn't she have the right to know?"

"The Queen herself holds very little actual power anymore. If it were simply she that we had to worry about, we would have no problem contesting it. As it is, we cannot risk Parliament learning of us."

"That makes sense, I guess." Alex finally admitted. Professor McGonagall chose that moment to enter.

"Form a line and follow me." She instructed. They did as requested and followed her into the Great Hall. Harry spotted Hermione at the Gryffindor table and gave a brief wave in her general direction.

"Due to the Schooling Act, we have eight new students ranging from second to seventh year. Please give them a hearty welcome." There was a brief smattering of applause.

Harry turned his attention to the singing hat.

Finally it was finished with its song and they were called up one at a time.

"Buckles, Alex." After a minute under the hat it finally shouted Hufflepuff for all to hear. Harry clapped along with the other houses.

Soon enough, Devons, Harry was called and Harry went to sit on the stool. The hat was lowered on his head and after a moment a voice started speaking.

'Interesting mind, I'll give you that. It's been awhile since I have had a Devons to sort.'

'If I had my way you would never have sorted me.' Came Harry's dry response.

'Oh I know. Now where to put you. You do have courage, but you don't tend to act before you think. Loyal to boot, even if it is an odd sort of loyalty, but I don't think Hufflepuff could handle you very well, neither would Gryffindor. You are certainly cunning enough for Slytherin, too cunning I'd say. They could do with lessons. Alas, you lack the ambition to make it to the top. This leaves Ravenclaw. You pursue knowledge, certainly, but your life does not revolve around it.'

'If I may, you say that I am a cunning person. Would a truly cunning person not be sorted where it is least expected?'

'Ah yes, I have had precious few realize that. A truly cunning person would hardly go into the place where it is expected.'

'Hufflepuff, if you don't mind. As you said, I am loyal to the bone, but I am also a hard worker, and no one would look for a snake amongst the beavers.'

'Very well. Hufflepuff it is.' Hufflepuff was shouted out and Harry approached the applauding table and settled next to Alex.

"What took you so long?" The sixth year asked cheerfully.

"I was convincing it that I am not Slytherin material." Harry replied as he studied the professors seated at the head table. He recognized the Potions Professor, having met him at a Potion Mastery convention in Canada the year before. He also recognized the Defence professor, though he thought it sad that no one else did. Then again, Lord Voldemort hadn't been a Dark Lord since the sixties for nothing.

Five more were sorted into Hufflepuff, all first years. Shortly after that, food appeared on the table. Harry wrinkled his nose in disdain as he glanced along the table. With a sigh, he grabbed an entire dish of roast beef and scooped half of it onto his plate. He grabbed nothing else. It would do until he was able to see about his eating arrangements later.

"Not hungry are you?" Alex joked cheerfully as he piled mashed potatoes on his plate.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but finished chewing and swallowing the mouthful he was working on. "I have had nothing since breakfast this morning."

"You didn't get anything off the lunch trolley?" A girl sitting across from him asked. "Susan Bones by the way."

Harry shook his head. "Sugar allergy." He said as a stabbed a chunk of beef.

"That could be a problem." Susan murmured. "This is Hannah Abbott," She indicated the girl sitting to the left of her. "-and that's Sally-Anne Perks."

"Harry Devons." Harry introduced himself.

Soon after everyone had finished, the meal disappeared and was replaced by desserts of all types. Harry eyed a chocolate cake longingly, but add no move to get it. Watching others eat was torture at best. Harry had every intention of paying a visit to the kitchens.

Finally, that too disappeared. The Headmaster, one Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Now that we are all comfortably sleepy, I have a few announcements. Filch has once again asked me to tell you that there is a blanket ban on Weasley Wizarding Wheezes merchandise. The Forbidden Forrest is still Forbidden, something you would do well to remember. We have a new DADA professor - Professor James Moriarty."

Harry stifled a snort. It was quite sad that people could miss the obvious.

"Finally, after the disastrous attempt at the Triwizard Tournament three years ago, we have decided to give it another shot. This time, Durmstrang will be hosting it. Twelve seventh year males and twelve seventh year females will be selected to go. These twenty-four will be chosen based on Academic performance, leadership qualities, as well as other traits. Te results will be posted in the common rooms on October 21st. Until then, study hard and be vigilant." With that they were dismissed to bed.

"So are you trying out for the tournament?" Alex asked curiously as the two followed the fifth year prefect.

Harry snorted derisively. "Not bloody likely."

"Why?"

"I have no interest in the publicity." Harry replied.

It was not long before the two found themselves outside of the common room. "The interesting tidbit about our common room is that it has no password." The prefect, a boy by the name of Timothy Trent remarked cheerfully. "No one expects that so they stand put here for hours trying to guess a nonexistent password when a simple 'may I enter, please' will get them in. Politeness is key." He paused for breath. "Down the hall a bit is a painting of fruit. That leads to the kitchens. Come on in."

There common room was comfortable looking, and had a certain homey feel to it. The walls had a striped black and gold diagonal pattern while the floor was plain black. Deep gold plushy chairs were scattered about.

"Firsties follow me. Justin, show Devons and Buckles where their rooms are." Another boy who introduced himself as Justin Finch-Fletchy led the two down a hall.

"Buckles, here's the sixth year dorms. Devons, follow me."

* * *

><p><strong>Vampire Encounters<strong>

**Torchwood**

* * *

><p>Sneaking Lisa into the Hub had been almost too easy. All one needed was excellent knowledge of the layout of the facility and good hacking skills. Ianto had been remarkably patient and hadn't snuck her in until about two and a half weeks into his new job. He had waited until Jack went out, presumably for 'companionship', hacked into the security system and overridden the lockdown codes that were temporarily in place while Jack was gone and overlaid the CCTV with footage taken at an earlier point in time.<p>

Ianto wasn't entirely an idiot. He was well aware of the possibility of Lisa getting free and running amok. That was why he carried a tranquilizer gun with him whenever he was around her and had a small machete strapped under his pants leg. The sedative that he had given her started to wear off so Ianto stayed a bit longer.

"Ianto?" Her words were slightly slurred.

"I'm here. We're in the sub-levels of the Hub." Ianto said gently as he leaned back in the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in.

"No problems?"

Ianto tilted his head to the side. "Of course not. I'm much to good at what I do to get caught." He replied with a faint smirk.

Lisa shot him a knowing smirk. "Right. Because you've never messed anything up in your life." She snorted. Ianto was silent and it took her a moment to realize what she'd said. "Sorry."

"'S alright." He mumbled. The guilty look was back. Lisa sighed in consternation, wide awake now.

"It's not your fault, Ianto." She said gently. "We both knew it was dangerous when we joined."

"But you joined because I insisted." He pointed out quietly.

It was silent for a moment before Lisa spoke again in an attempt to change the subject.

"Hungry." She murmured. "I'm hungry." She said louder.

"Right. Sorry." Ianto quickly slit his wrist with a fang and held it to her lips.

"Have you ever thought of what would have happened if I had died instead of being partially converted?" She asked as she finished her meal.

"I doubt I would be working here. I'd probably be a drifter again." Ianto glanced up to see her expression. "I know it's probably cruel to say this, but I'm kinda glad I stalked Jack into giving me the job. It's nice having a quiet job after Torchwood One." He expected anger. He had as good as told her that he was glad she was a partially converted Cyberman.

"I won't say it's pleasant for me," Lisa said with a slight grimace of pain, "but it is nice to see you so relaxed."

She'd been fresh out of college when she'd first met him. He'd been quiet, introverted, and he hadn't seemed very happy with his job as a book store clerk. He'd taken her under his wing after the nightmare she'd went through practically on his doorstep. He'd found a confused and terrified Lisa who had no idea what had just happened. Even after both had joined Torchwood One he hadn't really been all that social or anything. Lisa chalked it up to him being nothing more than a glorified butler with an official title of junior researcher and archivist. From what she'd gathered, he was more qualified than the head of the division and was barely even permitted in the archives beyond delivering coffee. At least at Torchwood Three he was actually getting to do what his job suggested and they seemed to appreciate his coffee more.

He noticed her grimace. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need painkillers?"

"It's manageable." Lisa answered quietly. "I will admit to needing to use the loo though."

Ten minutes later, he injected her with a mild sedative to help her sleep. "I'll be back tomorrow." He had murmured quietly in her ear as her eyes drifted shut. He had shut and deadlocked the door before slipping out. Covering his departure was as easy as covering his entrance. In total, he'd been in the hub for not quite two hours. Once he was home, he hacked into the CCTV and removed all traces of his car having ever been there during the night. No one would notice the slight overlap, not unless they were actively looking for it.

The next day, he entered the Hub half expecting to find everyone there with guns pointed at him. He need not have been worried. The only one there was Jack and he was pacing in his office. As always, Ianto prepared a pot of coffee and added an extra shot of caffeine to Jack's. He may claim to not need sleep, but Ianto had quickly deduced that he was a regular grouch until about mid-afternoon without the extra caffeine.

"Coffee, sir?" He asked as he entered the small office. Without waiting for an answer he carefully set the steaming striped mug down on the desk.

"You're a godsend, Yants." Jack beamed at him.

"Please don't call me that, sir." Ianto said a touch stiffly. He was a bit old-fashioned in that he did not like nicknames. Especially when they were that badly butchered.

About half an hour later, Tosh arrived followed closely by Suzie. They seemed to be chatting amicably about something. Ianto admired the way that Tosh seemed to get along with everyone. She murmured a quiet thanks to him as he set a mug of coffee at her desk.

He liked Suzie as well. She had a strong personality, but she was on occasion rude when interrupted. She ignored him completely as she set to work looking out for abnormalities.

Owen was the last to arrive, clearly hungover, but not quite as much as he had a few days ago. It was usually pretty easy to tell when he shagged people because he was less hungover and less irritable. He merely grunted in response to receiving his cup.

Jack was a complete mystery to Ianto. He flirted with everyone, but Ianto could see that his heart wasn't really into it. It was almost as if he was afraid of letting anyone worm there way in, yet he had no problem about worming his way into other's lives and then leaving them hanging. Ianto suspected it was a coping mechanism since his files did allude to the fact that he wasn't as young as he appeared to be.

After making sure everyone was well stocked with coffee, Ianto disappeared down into the sub-levels to visit Lisa.

Things continued on in this manner for several months. He would arrive, make sure everyone had their coffee and go visit Lisa. Afterwards, he would work in the archives.

The place was a mess. Half of the artifacts were just haphazardly tossed somewhere with no rhyme or reason, and he couldn't make heads or tails of the cataloguing system. So, with a few precarious notes in hand, Ianto set about organizing them as well as leaving a system for future archivist. It wasn't easy as half of them had no description and he had little idea what they actually did.

With that thought in mind, he started setting aside the ones that he wasn't sure about and at the end of the day he and Jack sat down and started identifying them.

"This is a learning device from the 39th century." Jack said fondly as he examined the device. It was a small lense that was put on the eyeball and through a minuscule prick formed a connection to the brain. The eyeball was the only part of the body that actually connected to the brain after all. "It pumped information about certain subjects straight into your brain. The only catch was you had to actually open the pathway between it and the rest of your brain."

"That seems to be the last of them, sir." Ianto said as he typed out the description.

"Jack."

"Hmm?" Ianto asked off-handedly as he packed up his laptop and the pile of artifacts.

"My name is Jack. There's no need to call me sir. It makes me feel old." Ianto raised an eyebrow but did not say the obvious.

"So, are you doing anything tonight?" Ianto stiffened and shot a glance up at Jack.

"I fail to see how that is any of your business, sir.

"Jack."

"Jack, then." Ianto paused to collect his thoughts. Truthfully he wasn't doing much of anything. The fight between Lisa and the cybermechanics was getting worse so he'd injected her with a powerful painkiller as well as a sedative. "I have plans, yes." He lied easily.

"Oh." Jack looked so put out at that.

"Perhaps another time." Ianto said lightly. He picked up the box of artifacts and walked out of Jack's office quickly.

Lisa was a bit out of it when he arrived later that evening. Ianto saw to her needs quickly and efficiently.

"It hurts." The words were quiet and pain-filled. "God, it hurts so much." Chocolatey brown eyes opened to peer up at Ianto. "Please, Ianto, please."

Ianto shook his head sadly. "I can't Lisa." He whispered quietly. Despite that, his words were clearly heard by the other occupant. "I can't give up on you Lisa."

"I don't know how much longer I can keep fighting it. It's there, all the time, rattling at my thoughts, my memories. And it hurts. It hurts so much." The broken whisper had Ianto recoiling from her. "Please Ianto, finish this!"

"I can't." He said softly as he looked at her. "I was never a very good killer. Especially not to people that I like."

"Then get someone who can!" She let out a pain-filled cry and thrashed her head. "I don't know how much longer I can keep it out of my head!"

Ianto had noticed Suzie's obsession. The problem was that he wasn't sure if anyone else had noticed it. Everyone at Torchwood Three seemed remarkably unobservant when it came to each other.

"What do you think, Lisa?" He murmured late one night. "Should I bring this to Jack's attention?" It was one of the rare days where the pain was manageable and she was lucid.

"Why are you even asking me that?" Lisa asked as she looked at him oddly. "You know more about it than I do. I'm stuck down here, in case you haven't noticed!" Lisa had been remarkably crabby of late. Being stuck in one position for months on end would do that to a person.

"I was thinking-" He started.

"God spare us all." She muttered darkly.

"I think I should tell them, or at least Jack at any rate." Ianto said quickly before she could interrupt him.

Lisa stared at him for one long moment before cracking the first smile in weeks. "Finally he sees reason." He looked like he wanted to speak and she quickly pressed on. "You can't fix me, Ianto. I know they ordered you to try, but I don't think it's going to happen. The cyber bits are getting stronger and I can't hold on much longer. I would feel better knowing that, should it take over completely, there will be someone who can and will put a stop to it."

Ianto took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, Lisa." He murmured. Lisa noted that tension was slowly leaving his shoulders.

"There was no need to get worked up on my account." Lisa said gently.

"You do realize that there's a possibility that Jack will take one look at you and shoot you." Ianto said abruptly as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes. It's a risk I'm willing to take." Lisa said with a sad smile. "Now you'd best go tell Jack about your Suzie. Wouldn't want her to do anything rash, now would we."

"Do you need anything before I leave?" He asked quietly. Lisa shook her head. He nodded and left, this time with a heavier heart about what he was going to do.

"Jack, I don't know if you've noticed but Suzie seems to have become obsessed with it and how it works." Ianto said quietly as he delivered the last cup of the day.

"Isn't she usually that way with new artifacts that come in?" Jack asked without looking up from his computer screen.

"More so than usual, sir." Ianto answered. "She's been taking it home."

Jack groaned, more out of annoyance than anything. "Ianto, I'm a bit busy at the moment." He snapped.

Ianto closed his eyes briefly, asking for patience from whatever deity was in the vicinity. "And how long before she starts making victims for it, Jack."

It was the use of his name that drew Jack's attention more than anything. "What do you mean?" He asked with a frown. "Are you accusing one of my employees of using a potentially deadly weapon to create victims for a glove that she's barely had three days?"

"No, I was suggesting she was going to use it on dead flies." Ianto was starting to get fed up with the Captain's bull-headedness. "Of course that's what I'm suggesting. She may have done so already, for all we know."

"I think we'd notice."

Ianto glared at him a moment before stalking out. If there was one thing he missed it was the fact that One would have at least taken the threat of addiction seriously. Granted they probably would've stepped back to watch and see what happened, but at least they didn't live in denial.

Muttering to himself, he stalked through the Hub and disappeared into the archives.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Ianto was right. There were times he hated being right. Gwen was snapped up barely minutes after her death. It made Ianto furious. He understood that the likelihood of death was high, but were they really that expendable that a replacement could be found at any given moment.

He had nothing against Gwen personally, she was only mildly irritating after all, but it still rankled at how easily Suzie was replaced.

In the end, he hand't needed to tell Jack. Jack wasn't nearly as unobservant as he pretended to be. It had not escaped his notice that Ianto would disappear into the sub-levels several times a day. After the incident with Suzie, he realized that he couldn't be as trusting as he used to be. He had trusted Suzie to know how to take care of herself, and look where that had landed him.

When he went searching after making sure that Ianto was actually in the archives, he did not like what he found.

"Ianto snuck you in, didn't he." He was not actually asking so much as confirming what he already knew.

The young woman strapped into the conversion unit nodded without speaking.

"And he's been trying to fix you?"

"And failing." She said in a raspy voice. "He's not a technological genius, you know."

"Is there no one in this damn organization that is trustworthy?" He asked disgustedly.

"What a small-minded mortal concept." She snorted. ""No, there is no one you can trust. Everyone will betray you in one form or another."

"Know that from experience, do you?" He asked wryly. "Why am I even speaking to a Cyberman….Woman?"

She shrugged as best as she could considering she couldn't move her upper body much. "If it's any consolation, he's been trying to work up the nerve to bring you down here." She said. "He can't bring himself to kill me."

"How human are you, just out of curiosity?" Jack asked as leaned comfortably against the wall.

"Human? Not a bit." She said with a smirk. "I haven't been a human in nearly a decade."

"Why do I sense you're about to tell me something I'm not going to like?" Jack asked warily.

"I'm a vampire. So it Ianto." She couldn't stop the full blown smirk on her face as she said that.

"They exist?"

"Certainly." She answered. "Pretty much everything you know about us is wrong, though."

"How so?"

"A lady never tells."

"Fire will kill us." Ianto said from the doorway as he entered. "As will beheading and massive explosions. All that shit about stakes and garlic doesn't do much except give us heartburn and clean out our sinuses."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jack asked with a slight frown.

Ianto shrugged. "I imagine we are not the only long-lived race in the universe." he answered. "Yet you can co-exist comfortably with them. I sincerely doubt you're going to wipe us all out."

"And if I decide to kill you?"

Ianto shrugged again. "I've been alive a long time. Death will be a relief."

"Four thousand long years." Lisa murmured. "he's one of the oldest."

"Suddenly I feel so young." Jack muttered in awe.

Ianto smirked slightly. "Why? You are nearly two centuries old. Do you feel particularly wise or powerful?"

Jack shook his head after a moment's contemplation. Truthfully, he didn't feel that much differently from when he'd been a mortal, apart from the fact that he now knew how much various methods of murder felt.

"Neither do I." Ianto said calmly. "I still have trouble remembering what I had for dinner last night; I can't keep up with my car keys, and I still haven't figured out how to make my cell phone get a steady signal everywhere I go. That will never change."

"Seriously?" Jack looked surprised.

"Have we forgotten about the resident partially converted vampiric Cyberwoman?" A wry voice in front of them interrupted them. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to get this over with."

"Beheadings the easiest and the least painful." Jack said after a moment.

"That's typically the way that we do it." Ianto murmured.

* * *

><p>So basically what these are are ideas that I've had and have sorta gotten a chapter or two written and lost interest. If anyone wants to use the ideas or copy anything from this that's fine by me. My only request is send me a link. I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. Stay tuned for Chapter 2.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Potter." The sad voice cut throat the fog of pain clouding her mind. Lily did not look so different from any other mother who had just given birth. Her appearance was frazzled and her tired green eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything.

"What's wrong?" Her beloved husband asked sharply. He had extracted his hand from Lily's and was rubbing feeling back in it as he stared worriedly at the Healer.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but your son - he didn't make it." James sat down heavily and reached over almost thoughtlessly to squeeze her should comfortingly. "His umbilical cord was wrapped around his throat." The woman explained sorrowfully to the young couple.

As the words finally penetrated her brain, Lily let out a gut-wrenching scream of denial. The Helaer bustled around the room, gathering her things and cleaning up. She had willingly agreed to have her memory removed of this event, since the Potter's had planned to go into hiding shortly afterwards. Finally, he seemed to notice her and followed her out of the room and down the stairs to the ground floor.

"Thank you for your help." James said as he raised his wand. A moment later, she was blinking up at him. "You were a great Healer." She nodded hesitantly before walking unsteadily to the fireplace and flooing out.

James went back upstairs to keep his wife company. She was exhausted and dozing fitfully. He settled down in the chair beside her bed and sighed. "What do we do now?" He murmured quietly to himself. "Albus is expecting word of the child." It was finally hitting home that they had lost their first child. He knew that Lily would be hit harder by the news when she was awakened, but he couldn't help but feel sorrow as well.

Just as he was dozing off in the chair, something made the hair on the back of his head stand up. "Ledo!" He called urgently. A moment later, the house elf popped into existence.

"What can Ledo do for Master James?" Ledo asked as he shifted from foot to foot.

"Keep an eye on Lily, please. I'm going to go check something out."

Gripping his wand, he slowly went downstairs, prepared for an attack that never came. He would not have been surprised if Lord Voldemort had decided to attack the young couple while they were at their weakest. Finally, he slid out the door.

James spotted a small blanket lying on his porch, a blanket that was wriggling slightly and gurgling. Cautiously he flipped the blanket up and stared in surprise at the infant lying there waving his arms and legs around. He looked rather annoyed, as strange as it seemed.

"What on earth? How did you get here?" He mused as he carefully picked the squirming baby up.

The baby gurgled, which translated in baby talk to 'I was in the midst of a brutal war on the planet Gallifrey with Daleks when something brought me to this miserable planet'. Of course, James wasn't fluent in baby-talk in the slightest, so he completely missed that.

"Well, I should get you inside at the very least." He observed as he brought the little tyke inside. "I wonder who left you there. That's a rather shitty thing to do, abandon a baby on someone's doorstep. Whoever did that should be hexed." He was careful not to get angry at the thought of someone abandoning a baby on his doorstep. When Lily had announced her pregnancy, his parents had sat them down an explained the facts of life for parenthood, and magical babies were more in tune to their parents emotions, which was a rather dangerous thing since they remained connected to their mother's magical core for around three years before it withered away. While this little tyke may or may not have been magical, he had taken the lessons to heart and was careful to keep his emotions in check.

James carried the baby upstairs and into Lily's room. The baby didn't seem overly concerned about much of anything, and promptly rolled over and went to sleep when he laid him down beside of Lily. It was moments like these when he was rather glad that his wife wasn't much of a mover once she fell asleep.

"For now, you'll stay here." James mused to himself as he ran his fingers through thin tufts of dark brown hair. "We'll decide what to do with you once Lily is stronger."

He woke up to an unusual sight. James had expected surprise, possibly accusations about trying to replace their son, but instead he woke to find her breast-feeding the baby he had found on the doorstep. She had a slight frown on her face.

"Where did you find him?" She asked as she shifted him slightly in her arms.

"Outside on the porch, oddly enough." He said as he stretched and began working all the kinks out of his spine. "Some arsehole left him there."

"We should at the least take him to get checked over at St. Mungo's." She mused as she lovingly stroked his soft hair. "Did you have anything in mind for what to do with him?"

"I was thinking we could, I dunno, keep him?" James said nervously.

She was silent for a moment, thinking. "We'll have to let Professor Dumbledore know, of course." She said. "I don't want to let him go, though, so I guess we'll adopt him then."

"I was going to wait until you were strong enough to be about and about before we took him to St. Mungo's." James remarked.

"I'll be fine after I take a Pepper-Up potion." She waved his concerns away.

"Lily-flower, I can't let you do that. You're not supposed to take potions for until you stop breast-feeding." James said firmly as he settled down next to her. "You'll have to get better the muggle way."

"Damn."

"Language, Lily."

He called Dumbledore later that day, and the Headmaster came in through the fireplace. "How did the birth go?" Albus asked as he brushed soot off of his pristine navy blue robes.

"We lost the baby." James said as he poured two glasses of firewhiskey.

"I am so sorry, James."

James smiled sadly. "Someone did abandon a baby on our doorstep though."

Albus hid the calculating look. This was too much of a coincidence for him to ignore. "Perhaps he is the child of the prophecy."

"I don't think so, he's not a newborn. Lily says he's at least four months old." James countered.

"Are you going to adopt him?" Albus asked as he peered over his half-moon glasses with a knowing look.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then technically he did get born yesterday." Albus pointed out. "As a Potter at least."

James looked thoughtful, and more than a bit unhappy. "I was hoping to avoid all that prophecy nonsense." He muttered disparagingly.

"I am so sorry, James. But if you do adopt him, you'll need to go into hiding." Albus told him quietly.

The Master was not having a good day. Firstly, he had no idea how he had ended up on this planet. The last thing he remembered was being on Gallifrey, watching as his world was burned by Daleks and unable to do a thing about it, and then nothing.

He had woken up lying under a red blanket that he remembered as having had when he had been the President's prisoner. He had laid there musing to himself and trying to figure out what on Gallifrey was going on when the blanket had disappeared. The Master had found himself face to face with a disgustingly human person who seemed to like muttering to himself.

He hadn't realized how tired he was until the man had laid him next to a female and he had promptly passed out much to his disgust. Regenerating took a lot out of a time lord, and he was unfortunately still stuck with those infernal drumbeats, although they had been removed after he'd found himself in the timelock. The Master supposed that he'd had them for so long that his mind was causing him to hear them regardless of whether they were still there.

That wasn't the most awkward bit however. No, that went to breast-feeding. The Master had a very adult mind trapped in an infant's body. He knew how creepy it sounded for an adult to be doing this. What made it even more awkward was the fact that he had no interest in her sexually at all, so he really didn't want to be anywhere near her breasts for any reason at all. Unfortunately, his infant body was disgustingly weak and required sustenance in the form of milk. He vowed to wean himself off of the liquid as soon as possible and then locate Harkness and steal his entire supply of retcon.

Their discussion of whether to keep him or not was rather pointless since the Master had decided that these two would be in charge of his welfare until he was old enough to take care of himself. If they didn't like that, they would learn to deal with it.

He realized something very important when the elderly human picked him up and frowned slightly. Humans didn't have two hearts. Damn, he was going to have to fix that. With a grumble to himself, he closed his eyes and concentrated. If he had had his old body, this wouldn't be a problem because he had had complete control of it. Stopping a heart had been child's play. Now it looked like he would have to relearn that since he was having difficulty getting his left heart to stop beating.

"Have you named him yet?"

"Harold James Potter." The red-headed woman called Lily replied.

'Harold' would have rolled his eyes at that, but that was suspiciously unbaby-like behaviour, and he was trying to hide to some extent.

The trip to St. Mungo's three days later was quick and efficient. "Well, everything seems to be in working order." The young man examining him said. The Master had since learned that these people had 'magic', which he thought hilarious. "He's a healthy baby boy. I will note, however, that he seems to be a squib or a muggle. I can't say for sure which not knowing who his parents are."

Muggle indeed, he thought disdainfully. He could read the man's mind with no trouble at all, and the fool was apparently feeling sorry for him because he couldn't use magic.

"I guess he won't be going to Hogwarts then."

What the hell was a Hogwarts?

"Probably not." He agreed.

The Potters were a kind loving parents and he soon met their friends Sirius, Remus, and Peter. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Peter was hiding something, not to someone like the Master who manipulated people on a large scale. He was the weasely type, always willing to serve the stronger master. What a shame he was serving the wrong master.

Harry was not impressed with this Voldemort fellow. He was bent on eradicating the muggles and takin over the world, and all that other fun stuff that megalomaniacs liked to do. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking at this long-term, which was quite obvious to someone who had not only taken over the world, but had actually rules it for a time. Eradicating the muggles, as they called them, was going to be impossible since he didn't have the resources to counteract and enslave them. The moron didn't know that was a problem either. Apparently they had never heard the saying 'know thine enemy'.

It was safe to say that the Daleks would be serving tea to the Queen of England before the Master joined Voldemort.

For some reason, everyone seemed worried about Voldemort. Harry couldn't figure out why.

The months passed quickly and soon it was Halloween. Harry was nervous. Something was going to happen tonight; he could sense it. It made his skin tingle and his hair stand on end.

Showtime.

* * *

><p>The Master is the one of the prophecy, not that he's going to be overly concerned about a trivial thing like that. At any rate, he's a 'squib' and I had intended him to maintain squib status. At some point, the Doctor would have shown up, either as a student, a teacher, or in some other capacity. Because the Master is no longer Simm!Master, his personality has changed. I envision a more subtle evil overlord type who is more like Tom Riddle in his early days.<p>

* * *

><p>Dr. Jonathan Crane glanced up from the file that he was busy writing in as he heard the door to his office open. He quickly plastered on a fake smile and stood up to greet his guest. He did have to follow propriety with guests, as much as he hated playing nice. A man entered with long albeit balding dark hair. He was clearly nervous about this. Dr. Crane stifled a sneer as they shook hands. "I'm Pius Thicknesse, Director and Head of Azkaban Mental Correction Institute."<p>

"Dr. Jonathan Crane, Head Doctor of Arkham Asylum." Dr. Crane answered. "Shall we get started then?"

"Indeed. I am here about the transferral of one of our patients here." Pius' hand was shaking slightly as he withdrew a folder from within the briefcase he had brought in with him. "He's...a mess."

Dr. Crane flipped open and began to skim over it, not having the time to read the thick stack of papers held within. "Has he been diagnosed with these, or are these merely conjecture?" He asked off-handedly as he flipped the page over.

"Our Head Doctor, Lucius Malfoy, has been unable to get enough out of him to really diagnose him with anything. Once he decides that he doesn't like you, he won't talk at all unless it's to shout butchered Latin words." Dr. Crane nodded, tamping down on the glee he could feel at the prospect of getting this patient.

"This includes his entire history?" Jonathan pressed as he glanced up.

"As much as we've been able to get out of him." Pius admitted with a wry smile.

"Would you care to give me an abridged version?" He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he stared at the other man with a calculating gaze.

"Ah, of course. It may take awhile, however."

Jonathan nodded towards the clock. "I'll warn you when we need to wrap things up." He answered with a small smile.

Pius nodded and cleared his throat. "About two decades ago, there was a serial killer, called himself Voldemort, or Lord Voldemort. He specialized in poisons and gases for his victims. One of his chosen victims was Harry Potter; his parents were collateral damage. For whatever reason, Harry proved immune to the gases that were pumped into his home through the air conditioning, while his parents were killed by it. No one knows where he got the scar from, although we suspect that it's so Lord Voldemort could come back to finish the job, since he was caught at their home and sent to a high security prison.

"His aunt and uncle took him in, although the gas did seem to have adversely affected him, since he was prone to strange behavior. Such as living under a cupboard and only eating when he was actively told to."

"Abuse?"

"None. He's a bit on the skinny side, and his aunt did admit to forgetting about him frequently since he was such a quiet child and tried not to bring attention to himself. His aunt and uncle apparently allowed him to continue his strange behavior for awhile. It was only when he started claiming to find letters that no one else could see that they realized that there might be a problem.

"He was already having delusions, even as an eleven-year old. Delusions of magic. Unfortunately, he is something of a people magnet and managed to convince most of the students at Hogwarts, our school for teenaged miscreants and troublemakers, to play along with him."

"Do the other children share this delusion, or were they playing along?"

"There was one student, Luna Lovegood, that we think may actually believe the fantasy that he has woven. Most do not, however." Pius answered. "At any rate, this serial killer managed to escape after Harry's fourth year with us and kidnapped him. Harry managed to escape, but in the process got another student killed."

"Does he suffer from Post-Traumatic?" Jonathan asked as he leaned over his desk.

"Yes. Like you wouldn't believe."

"During his fifth year, he managed to convince four other students to come with him and break into Azkaban, for what we never learned. None of them were seriously harmed, thank god, but he managed to get someone killed again, a Sirius Black, who was a patient of ours at Azkaban and managed to escape. During his seventh, the Headmaster of Hogwarts died; he was going senile and accidentally walked off the Astronomy Tower. Harry was the one who found his body; what he was doing outside at eleven after dark I don't know. There was also a massive break out at Azkaban, which Harry blamed on Voldemort. He did not return for a seventh year, instead opting for doing a bit of vigilante work."

Jonathan winced slightly as he thought of the mysterious Batman which had been all over the news over the last week.

"He and his friends killed sixty-nine patients, doctors, and security guards of Azkaban as well as three of the orderlies. He was immediately arrested and sentenced to life in Azkaban. Unfortunately, he has already proven that he can break out if he really wants to as we've had to track him down twice in the five years that he's been with us. Each time he's escaped, a significant number of people, so called death eaters, have died."

Jonathan leaned back with a pensive look on his face. "Interesting." He mused to himself. Abruptly he sat up and was business-like again. "Very well; I shall have a look over these. I'll be wanting to meet him, of course."

Pius nodded. "I suspected as much. We can fly you over to the Institute, if you like. We're not shipping him over for a meeting, however."

Jonathan could understand their reluctance on that, if the file was anything to go by. Still, he was annoyed about having to leave his experiments and projects for any amount of time. However, he was quite determined to add this teenager to his collection of misfits, so he would be willing to leave for a few days if it meant adding the teen to his roster. "I'll let you know, probably within a couple of days, whether I'm interested in the case." They both knew he was interested, but he had to be careful to keep the other man in the dark as to his true intentions towards the young man.

Pius left soon after and Jonathan began to read through the file in earnest this time.

A week later, he was on a plane to Scotland to meet Harry Potter.

-0-0-0-0-

"Move it, Potter." Harry glared at the guard behind him, but did as he was told. A thin gold band around his wrist prevented him from retaliating magically. "Some high and mighty doctor wants you, although I can't imagine why."

Harry snorted. "I'm Harry bloody Potter. Why wouldn't he want me?" He asked with a trace of bitterness.

"Because you're a scrawny young man with nothing special about you in the slightest." The man sneered as he gave him a shove. "Now shut up and walk. Best not to keep the nice man waiting."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he was nervous all the same; curiosity was a deciding factor as well. Why was the Ministry of Magic sending him to a muggle mental institute? Granted, he probably needed the counseling with all the Death Eaters he'd killed, but why an asylum for the criminally insane? And why muggles?

He was led into a small room where a young man with lightly gelled dark brown hair and glasses was perusing several sheets of paper all at once. Harry forced his heart to slow down as he hesitantly sat down across from the doctor.

"Ab, Harry Potter isn't it?" Harry cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. They're stupid but not that stupid." He pointed out dryly.

Jonathan ignored that. "This is a screening, I'll be testing you to see if you would fit in at Arkham Asylum." Jonathan said as he pushed his glasses up his nose and stared at the young man.

"Oh goody." Harry didn't sound thrilled at all. "Do they employ nutters as security guards at Arkham."

"No; all of our employees are carefully screened." Not carefully enough, he was the Head Doctor, after all.

"Good for them. Guess I'll find out for myself when I get shipped over."

"If."

"When." Harry corrected sharply. "They've already fed you the tripe about magic."

Jonathan's eyebrows rose at that. Harry sounded almost annoyed at that. "So it's not true then, your belief in magic?" He asked politely.

Harry's lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. "It's more of a damned if I do and damned if I don't, actually." He replied as he scratched his wrist absent-mindedly. "If I admit to believing in magic, you'll have me across the pond surrounded by criminal nutjobs. If I don't then it's my word against theirs, and prisoners have been known to lie through their teeth to avoid jailtime."

"How very astute of you." Jonathan admitted after a moment. In the long run, it really didn't matter; Harry Potter was too interesting to pass up.

"So, can we get this over with? These handcuffs are making my wrists itch." Harry looked at him plaintively.

* * *

><p>Short, I know, but this one was intended to be something where you're never quite sure if magic is a figment of his imagination or not.<p>

* * *

><p>Harry glanced around him, taking in the darkened theatre that was starting to fill up. He wasn't just here for the show; he had a meeting with the star of the show afterwards to discuss the terms of his contract. For now, however, he intended to sit back and relax for the length of the show about vampires and demons. Most of it was probably inaccurate, but he wasn't too picky about it. It wasn't like many of these people had ever encountered vampires before. Still, it should be interesting.<p>

Harry took the time to look around him. This was one of the better shows one could catch in Las Vegas and tickets were a bit pricey, not that Harry had had any trouble affording it. He could have afforded every ticket here without putting too much of a dent in his money.

Being a bodyguard was good for money. Being a damn good bodyguard was better. Harry was a damn good bodyguard. While his parents had left him enough money to leave him reasonably well off, Harry tried not to depend upon it too much. Sirius hadn't left him much in the way of money; serving a Dark Lord was expensive apparently and his family has served many.

His attention snapped to the stage as the curtains started to rise. The next hour and a half were a blur as Harry watched the show, marveling at some of the stunts they had managed to pull off even though they were muggles. He knew there were lines holding her up, but he couldn't see them and catching her on fire was quite good.

When the show finally ended, Harry stood up with everyone else and clapped. As the curtain fell, he began weaving his way towards the side door. Quietly slipping through, he walked to the back room where the celebrity was undoubtedly unwinding. Slipping by Peter Vincent's security guards proved to him that the man really needed a good bodyguard since they were next to useless at protecting him. Harry hadn't even used magic to slip by them.

"-was fuckin' horrible." His future boss groused as he sipped his drink.

"It wasn't that bad." The woman leaning against the wall said. Harry could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was every guy's dream girl with a gorgeous body and an alluring accent.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Lacey couldn't even get a proper scream out! She sounded like she lost a fuckin' nail, not like she was about to lose her soul!"

"She's new, give her a break." The woman sighed.

Peter snorted and hopped to his feet and headed over to the mini-bar that was set up in the corner. He poured himself a rather generous amount of something green, and that was after taking a long swallow from the bottle. Harry snuck a glance over at the woman and noted the slightly annoyed expression.

Peter turned and froze as he finally noticed that they were not alone. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked harshly. "And what the fuck are you doing back here?"

"Harry Potter." Harry answered with a raised eyebrow, as if this should have been obvious. "And I am proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that you need a bodyguard." He answered with a wry smile. He jerked his thumb towards the door. "You should fire your guards."

Peter narrowed his eyes and looked over from head to toe, taking in the pressed charcoal grey suit. "You're awfully young." He observed as he settled back to his chair.

"The art of misdirection." Harry replied as he took his sunglasses off and tucked them into his pocket. "I don't look intimidating, so people tend to overlook me and discount me as a threat." He didn't sound overly thrilled about that.

Despite the advantage, Harry sometimes wished that he was taller and could actually pack on some serious muscling. It was disheartening to be considered little more than a teenager when he was in his upper twenties. Unfortunately, the neglect he had sustained from the Dursley's had made him rather short, clocking in at five foot seven, and a rather skinny frame, although he no longer had a malnourished look. Still, people took him for a teenager more often than not and that annoyed him greatly. He still had to show proof of age when he bought alcohol.

"So you're my new bodyguard." Peter began to remove his facial hair, peeling it off from where it had been glued on. In make-up, he made Harry think of a cross between Russell Brand and Jack Sparrow. Harry wished he could figure out why he looked so familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.

"I am for the next three years. After that," He shrugged. Harry liked to keep his initial contracts relatively short so that he didn't find himself stuck with someone he absolutely hated for a decade.

"That will do, I suppose." Peter grunted as he pulled his wig off.

Harry realized why he thought that Peter looked so familiar. He was almost the spitting image of Bartemius Crouch Junior, which was rather strange since Harry was sure that Barty was currently a soulless vegetable and definitely not doing shows in Las Vegas.

"Let's go!" Peter was on his feet.

Harry glanced at the woman. "Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much. Ginger, by the way." Ginger replied with a slight smirk. "You get used to it, or you get out."

Harry shrugged. "Does he get mobbed when he looks like that?"

She snorted as they walked towards the viper. "Of course not. The fans don't even recognize him." She climbed into the backseat next to Peter, and Harry climbed into the passenger seat. He would need to drop by his hotel at some point to pick up his things, especially his laptop. Then he would need to set up the security system.

"You'll be moving into my penthouse." Harry glanced into the mirror and noted the somewhat lecherous grin on his employers face. Lovely, his boss was a pervert. He wasn't the first pervert Harry had had to work for, although he was admittedly better-looking.

"I figured as much." Harry said dryly. "It's difficult to protect you when I'm somewhere else." They stopped briefly so that Harry could get his things from the hotel he was staying at.

"Spacious." Harry commented as he took in his new home. Peter had a thing for black, it seemed. He also seemed to like collecting weapons for vampire apocalypses. Harry resolved to have a better look at the collection once he was settled in.

The first thing Harry did was link his laptop to all of the security cameras. The second thing he did was set up several types of wards. While he wasn't a good enough warder to set up anything to keep anyone out, he could certainly set up wards to alert him when magical, supernatural, or mundanes entered the premises. He linked all of his wards to his ring, which would grow warm when someone entered and the stone would flash clear for mundanes, red for magical people, and blue for anything else. It was times like this when he wished that he still had Hermione as a friend. He had no doubt she would know how to set up repelling wards or detaining wards.

Unfortunately, like the rest of the wizarding world, she had decided to cut her losses. Harry had never understood why she of all people would turn against him. She had been his most loyal friend up until that point.

Once he had completed that, he set about unpacking the rest of his things.

"Still awake?" Ginger asked as she stepped in. Harry swallowed as he realized she was wearing very little.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Shouldn't you-?" He gestured towards her. "I dunno, put clothes on?"

She snorted. "Why, it's where I live." She peered at him. "You're not a virgin are you?"

"Ahm, I don't think I'll answer that." Harry replied. He just knew that he was blushing.

She snickered at him as she settled into one of the chairs. "You won't be for long."

Harry sighed as he settled cross-legged in the center of his rather large bed. Now that he thought about it, it was rather strange that his bed was so large since he was just one person. He had a sudden worry that perhaps his employer was into threesomes.

"No it's not that, I just consider my sex life to be...private." Harry said awkwardly. He dallied a bit hear and there, but for the most part, he couldn't be bothered with relationships, and he was a bit leery with one-night stands. "So, why are you in here?"

"I'm getting to know you." Ginger answered with a raised eyebrow. "Somebody has to because Peter won't give a fuck about you."

Harry shrugged. Indifference was something he could handle. It was better than pretending to care and then stabbing him in the back like a certain red-head he knew. "I can live with that." He glanced at his computer screen and raised an eyebrow.

"Kinky." She said as she leaned over his shoulder. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "You were watching weren't you."

Harry snickered before pulling up the half-finished game of solitaire he'd been working on. "Was not." He said dryly. "I figure if he dies during sex he'll probably have died the happiest man alive."

She snorted at that. "You're probably right." She smirked at him. "So you definitely weren't watching." She leaned over to brush a strand of black hair away from his startling green eyes. "Pity," She murmured in his ear. "I think he'd get off knowing you were watching him fuck me."

"No doubt." Harry said in a slightly strangled voice. He found himself remembering a man he'd met briefly in Cardiff who had been just as kinky. Perhaps he'd go pay him a visit at some point, take him up on the offer he'd made. Or not.

"Ginger!" A loud voice called from the sitting room. Ginger rolled her eyes and crawled off of the bed. Harry watched her go. Damn, his no fucking the boss rule was going to be very difficult to follow for this particular venture.

He turned in shortly afterwards. He was suffering from jet lag and was rather exhausted after all.

Sunglasses hid his eyes from view as Harry Potter stepped out of his car and locked it. He carried a large rectangular case in one hand as he strode towards the entrance of the building. He barely even glanced around as he entered the lobby and instead headed straight towards the receptionist who didn't appear to have noticed him.

"Good afternoon." He greeted pleasantly as he leaned against the counter and peered over her shoulder at the computer screen.

Her chair spun around upon hearing his soft tenored British accent. "Can I help you with something?" She asked as she eyed him up and down. He could understand the note of distrust in her voice. He didn't look like he worked here, wearing plain black jeans and a dark red t-shirt, and he looked much too young to be an enterprising businessman wanting to meet with Tony Stark.

"Yes, Harry Potter to see Mr. Stark. I believe I have an appointment?" He queried softly with a flirty grin. She was quite pretty with dark brown hair and wide innocent blue eyes. It was quite obvious, at least to him, that she hadn't been hired for her intelligence.

She seemed faintly flustered as she checked before nodding. "Top floor. I tell him you're on your way." She waved him in the direction of the elevator.

Harry nodded briefly before doing as she said and meandering towards the elevator. After punching the button, it was a good five minutes before it showed up. He waited patiently for everyone to disembark who was going to before stepping in himself.

He was careful in how he acted, leaning casually against the wall as it slowly glided upwards. It wouldn't do for his query to get suspicious, now would it. The elevator ride was simultaneously too short and too long. He was getting antsy, drumming his fingers on the wall of the elevator as he waited patiently. He ignored the many stops that it made as it slowly pushed towards the top.

Finally, he was at the top floor, and he was being greeted by Tony Stark. "Not quite what I was expecting." He observed as he took in Harry's appearance. He flashed a quick grin at him to show that he didn't mean anything by it.

Harry gave a one-shoulder shrug as he neatly folded up his sunglasses and slid them into his shirt pocket. "I live up to very few people's expectations." He said shortly. He ignored the quizzical look that Tony sent him. "Shall we get started then?" He asked making an obvious attempt at changing the subject.

"Right. This way sweet cheeks." Harry rolled his eyes and flushed slightly as he followed Tony through what he assumed was his penthouse. The flirting didn't bother him much, but he had appearances to keep up. "Alright, here's good as any, I suppose."

It was spacious and just perfect for what Harry had in mind. Setting the case flat on the floor, he unsnapped it and flipped it open. A long white table covered in memory foam was extracted and quickly set up. His last action was to cover it in a sheet. "Alright, I'll give you a couple of minutes to get out of your clothes. His cheeks were tinged red slightly as he practically ran out the door accompanied by Tony's chuckles.

Harry paced back and forth in the adjacent room as he calmed his pounding heart. If he pulled this off, it was going to be amongst his beat assassinations. Must were entirely too easy to pull off. Stark's had taken nearly two months of planning and intelligence gathering. In the end, masseuse was simply the easiest way of getting in apart from meeting him in a bar, but there was the slightest chance that Stark would consider him too much of a jailbait to risk, so this was really the easiest way. He was counting on Stark doing little more than flirting and teasing in an effort to throw him off his game. Of course, if he failed at this, than getting out of here would be nigh impossible, not that he was overly worried about that.

"Sweet cheeks, get your arse in here." Rolling his eyes, he acquiesced. His eye twitched slightly at the fact that Stark was just barely covered by the towel. Then again, from what Harry could see, he had a good body for flaunting, so he supposed that could be forgiven. It would be such a shame to kill him, but a contract was a contract.

"I do have a name, you know." His voice wavered slightly as he approached the genius.

"Yeah, but your face when I call you sweet cheeks, it's endearing." Harry just barely kelt from rolling his eyes.

"Please stop." Harry requested as he popped open the bottle of oil. He held the bottle over Tony's back. "This should get your attention."

"You've already got that." Tony pointed out.

Harry squeezed the bottle slightly. He would need to be quick about this. He wouldn't have much time to get out of here once he got this started, but hopefully it would be enough. Just as he was starting to flip the bottle over to pour a clear flesh-melting potion on Tony's back, an interruption came in the form of an assassin.

"Stark! Banner's gone green!" Clint came barreling in and skidded to a stop.

Tony groaned. "And I didn't cause it!" His voice had taken on a petulant tone. "Reschedule?" He sighed towards Harry, drawing Clint's attention to him for the first time. His eyes narrowed at Harry and noted the uncapped bottle.

"What are you doing here!" He demanded harshly.

"Masseuse." Harry answered crisply, dropping the slightly nervous tone he had been using for a more professional one.

"A masseuse assassin. More original than a bitch, I suppose." Clint had his gun trained on the young man.

"Assassin?" Their attention was drawn to Tony who had managed to don a pair of jeans while they weren't paying attention to him.

"Oh, I dunno. It's one of the best ways to die, in the middle of an afterglow." Harry answered at the same time with a lazy grin as he dropped the bottle to the floor.

"Cliched don't you think?" Clint said ignoring Harry.

"Cliches are underrated." Harry said dismissively as he held his hands up where everyone could see him. He shot a mournful look towards Tony who was looking decidedly uncomfortable that an assassin had come that close to getting to him. "If only you had arrived ten seconds later." He murmured sadly.

"Excuse me for not wanting him dead, even if he is an arse." Clint was methodically wrenching his hands behind his back and tying them together.

"Really, Clint, all you had to do was ask." Harry mused as he tested his bonds with a sly smirk. Well, this was such a wonderful way to end his day. "I don't suppose you'd consider letting me go to lick my wounds."

"Oh no. I believe Romanov wanted a word with you. Something about an incident in Singapore?"

"Damn, I was hoping she'd let that go."

"You left her tied up and naked, Potter. She's not going to forget that." Both turned to Tony when they heard his snort of laughter.

"In my defense, she interrupted me while I was making a kill. Just imagine what I'm going to do to you, Barton." He said with a smirk.

0-0-0-0-0

"So, we have in our hands, the assassin known as the Child Killer." Fury was leaning over a chair. "What do we know about him?"

"His name's Harry Potter, but all records have been completely wiped." Natasha answered as she drummed her fingers on the table. "Nothing on who raised him, where he went to school, not so much as a birth certificate."

"So he doesn't exist." Bruce clarified. He was probably wishing his own records were like that. It would make it so much easier to hide if they were.

"No, he doesn't." Tony sighed. "Whoever wiped his records did a damn good job. I've got nothing. Annd he managed to deactivate JARVIS while he was in my penthouse."

"So, he doesn't exist and he's a good hacker. What else."

"He doesn't kill for money." Clint's voice drifted down from the ceiling.

"Agent Barton! Get your ass down here!" Fury's eye was twitching as he glared at Clint who was climbing out of the ceiling. Clint nonchalantly dropped into his own chair, and leaned in. "Explain."

"As far as we can tell, he prides himself on his work. Money means nothing to him, and he is not easily swayed from a course of action."

"He first showed up twelve years ago and he made a name for himself, though he was not and still isn't an easy man to get ahold of."

"But he can't be more than fifteen!" Steve interjected with a bewildered expression.

"He's in his late twenties, possibly early thirties." Natasha explained. "He picks and chooses based on how difficult someone is to take out."

"Hence why he picked me." Tony muttered. "So, what do we do with him?"

"He's already turned SHIELD down once." Natasha observed. "He'll probably do so again."

"Not hero material then?"

Both Clint and Natasha snorted at that. "Not hardly." Clint muttered.

* * *

><p>I've read a few fanfics where Harry is a mechanicbaker/whatever else, and I really would like to see one where he is a less than savory person who is trapped in the form of a seventeen year old thinks to the whole Mastery of Death bit, and has twisted it around to his advantage.

* * *

><p>Minerva rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. It was a lot of work being Headmistress of a school. Granted, she had some experience since she'd been the Deputy Headmistress for nearly twenty years, but it was very tiring. She had yet to find a suitable replacement for her own position, so it looked like she would be teaching on top of her duties as Headmistress. Fortunately, Filius had agreed to be the Deputy Headmaster and Rolanda and Poppie were both helping with we Headmistress duties. Minerva was quite pleased to have such good colleagues and friends.<p>

Unfortunately, that still left several positions that needed to be filled. Alastor had agreed to take on the position of Defence professor, and had even suggested extra classes. After what had happened last year, she thoroughly agreed with his suggestion. That still left the Potion's position open, and she was rather hoping to replace Cuthbert as the History of Magic professor. Potions was the more pressing concern.

There had been no applicants for the potions position, however. That was a bit of a problem.

"Minerva, are you in here?" Pomona's voice drifted through the doorway.

"Yes." Minerva called back. She sat back and rubbed her aching eyes.

"You've been holed up here all afternoon." Pomona commented as she entered the office.

Minerva sighed. "I know; I really must get things ready for September the first, however."

Pomona smiled somewhat sadly. "You're doing your best, I know. I'm surprised the Board even agreed to open the school this year." She observed.

"Many families have removed their children. Some have even fled the country." Minerva said as she indicated a stack of parchment. "The Parkinson's have withdrawn their daughter, and the Abbot's have fled to Iceland."

"How bad is it?" Pomona asked with considerable worry.

"The incoming crop of students is our largest group, mostly because the parents of the muggleborns don't know any better." Minerva answered. She hated lying to them, and she considered withholding valuable information the equivalent of lying.

"C'mon Minerva, you need to take a break."

"I know, what I lack is the time." Minerva looked every minute of her sixty-two years of age.

"Minerva, you're running yourself into the ground. You're no good to us if you're half dead from fatigue." Pomona leaned against the doorway.

Minerva had to admit that she was probably right. "Very well." She sighed as she finally pulled herself to her feet. "I suppose you're right."

With a final glance at the stack of paperwork that still required her attention, she swept by the younger witch and down the revolving staircase. She would have to make a point of removing it if all possible. Minerva wasn't overly fond of staircases that moved in any case; they were an accident waiting to happen, and having one that she would be going up several times a day was not something she wanted to look forward to.

That was near the bottom of her list of things that she needed to do, however. First and foremost was finding a potions's professor. She was beginning to think that blackmail was not such a bad thing, not if it meant one less headache for her to deal with.

Hogwarts was silent as she strode through its empty halls. There were small signs of the fearsome battle that had been waged here not two months ago, a painting that was blackened here, a hole in the wall there, still, Hogwarts would be fixed before school was due to start in three weeks time. She would see to that.

Just seeing the signs sent waves of sadness through her. So many young lives ruined, so many needless deaths; it hurt to think of the brilliant young minds that would never again traverse the halls of Hogwarts.

War was such a senseless thing. The innocents were always those that were hit the hardest.

The walk down to Hogsmeade was long, and quite tiring for the witch. She was middle-aged by wizarding standards, but war and stress had affected her adversely. She wasn't nearly as active as she had once been.

Minerva apparated to Diagon Alley; she had a few things she needed to do before she could rest for the night, the most important of which was getting an ample supply of pamphlets printed up at Flourish and Blott's. Unfortunately, things were getting a bit tight. She didn't have much time to get everything in order for the tour for the muggleborns, and she had yet to send out supply lists. She felt incredibly harried to get all this done in three weeks.

She still didn't have a potions professor.

She was just heading into Flourish and Blott's when someone ran into her going out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you ther- Minerva!" She glanced up and was quite surprised at who she saw. He clambered to his feet and reached down to pull her up as well. "Minerva, I haven't seen you in years!"

"Hello, Doctor." She replied warily as she eyed him. He hadn't changed a bit since she'd last seen him nearly two decades ago. His hair was still an unruly mess, and she noted distractedly that he still wore those odd shoes with his blue suit. Actually, now that she noted it, he didn't normally wear a blue suit under his long brown coat. Every time she'd seen him previously it had been a brown pinstriped affair. "You haven't changed a bit, I see."

"Nope!" He popped the 'p' sound as he glanced around, noting the unusually somber attitude of most of the few shoppers. "Things have changed, haven't they." He murmured in a low voice.

"I think you'd better come with me, but first, I really need inside."

"Right, sorry about that." He stepped out of the way. Ten minutes of haggling later, she had a stack of pamphlets. Parchment paper was also picked up before she escorted him to Hogwarts. All thoughts of heading home and subsequently bed were forgotten. She had resigned herself to another sleepless night sleeping in the Headmistress quarters. They still hadn't quite gotten the smell of lemon drops out.

"So what's happened since I was last here?" He asked as he sprawled out in a chair opposite her desk.

"Lily is dead." Minerva said bluntly. His face fell slightly at that.

"How long?" He asked softly as he sat up properly in the chair and stared at his hands.

"Nearly sixteen years."

He looked morose. "It's been two weeks for me, two weeks since I left her with James." His voice sounded so...broken.

He took in a long deep breath before indicating that she continue. "Harry Potter defeated Voldemort the night Lily died, but not permanently."

The Doctor frowned slightly at that. There was something niggling at the back of his brain about that, but he couldn't quite remember what it was. It was very important, he knew, but he wasn't sure if it concerned Harry, Lily, or Voldemort.

"He came back?" He hazarded with a slight frown. He had experience with people coming back after he had thought he was dead.

Minerva nodded with a weary look. "There is a prophecy concerning him and Harry."

The Doctor frowned slightly at that. He had ran into a prophecy or two, and knew they were nothing to sneeze at, but they weren't set in stone either. Like most things concerning time, they were quite flexible.

"I don't remember the exact wording, but suffice to say, Harry is expected to kill Voldemort, or be killed by him."

The Doctor winced in sympathy. He had been in that particular situation more times than he cared to count.

"Last year, Albus managed to get himself cursed. Voldemort set up a massive plan to destroy us. One of our students was tasked with the mission of killing Albus." She shuddered slightly. "It was a ploy, however. His real goal was to find a way to get his death eaters and himself into Hogwarts. Those that chose not to join him were executed in the Great Hall." How her voice managed to stay steady was beyond her.

She could still remember them being lined up, could remember curse after curse hitting them, the screams of agony before they were finally allowed to die. A good portion of the fifth year Gryffindors were gone. Some of the sixth and seventh years were gone as well, but most of them had been fifth years.

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw hadn't been hit as hard, but a few had been executed. Slytherin hadn't been touched.

The expression on the Doctor's face was one of anger. Minerva shivered slightly, glad that he was on her side. She didn't quite understand who or what he was, but she could recognize a very dangerous man when she saw one.

"The Order arrived to help, but it was a trap on that end as well. Only Alastor and Kingsley survived." All of the pent up emotions were starting to bleed through. "We're in shambles, Doctor. We can't keep fighting him, not the way we are."

Minerva glanced up at him uneasily. "Voldemort's winning." She said softly. "The Prophet is painting Harry as the villain; they're saying that he was missing when the executions were going on, that he was too cowardly to watch his friends die."

"He wasn't?"

Minerva shook her head. "He was with Albus. They were hunting for one of his horcruxes; Harry said it was a fake."

"Sounds like you need help." He mused.

"Hogwarts opens in three weeks, and we're still a professor short."

"What position?"

"Potions." The Doctor leaned back to think. He could tell she was asking, no, begging, him to take the job. It had been awhile since he had had a position of teaching. He was also between companions, so the TARDIS was rather quiet.

"One year, and I'll help bring down Voldemort."

Minerva couldn't have stopped the relieved smile from forming, nor did she try. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Dr. John Smith. And it's one year, just one." He said warningly. He didn't think he could stand being in one place for longer than that. "Now, I need to read up on the subject and pick up my TARDIS." His plan was to pick up quite a few books on the subject, take his TARDIS into the vortex and just relax there and read.

"I shall also be needing a list of textbooks within the next day or so." Minerva told him as she looked at him sternly over his glasses. "You can't wait until the last minute on this."

"I'll get it to you." He said.

She waited until he had left before pouring herself a shot of firewhiskey. She needed it after that meeting.

The Doctor had been in and out during the first war. When he had picked up Lily, she had been a brave fighter and one of her best, but something had happened the week she'd been with the Doctor. She had come back slightly older and much more resourceful and wielding magic in ways Minerva had never seen. She had privately told Minerva that she had had to learn how to properly utilize it in order to get it to work in some of the places she had been since magic apparently didn't work the same everywhere. It had been an odd conversation all around. James had seemed warier around his wife too.

Still, the Doctor was a dangerous person; she wasn't even sure if he was a wizard or not.

* * *

><p>This is another one of those lovely 'the-Doctor-is-Harry's-dad' fics and teaching to boot. It was intended to be an angsty fix with vaguely suicidal!Harry.<p>

* * *

><p>Summertime. Harry absolutely detested summertime. Most kids looked forward to the summer holidays, eager to get out of stuffy classrooms and away from overbearing teachers. Harry vastly preferred that to being completely and utterly ignored except when his relatives needed something from him. On the rare case that his relatives paid the slightest amount of attention to him, it was usually to tell him how utterly useless he was. Harry was used to this, however. It had long since ceased bothering him.<p>

The teen was currently wandering the streets of Surrey, trying to find something to occupy himself. He might have been afraid of death eaters catching him, but he didn't really care if they did. At least then something would be happening that could take his mind off of his Godfather's death. He couldn't help but feel guilty about his death because he had been studying to shield his mind. He should have worked harder at it, should have practiced more.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, or so the muggle saying went.

Unfortunately, he didn't think that the Death Eaters were going to kidnap him. Surely they had more important things to do than stalk a teenaged boy who couldn't even shield his mind from a psychopath.

A loud shout of 'Harry' had him spinning around and staring, while berating himself. He should have learned by now, never go anywhere without his wand. A young man looked surprised at his surroundings. "What the-?" His eyes focused on Harry, who was inching away from, prepared to start running the second he was able to. "You must be Harry Potter." He greeted with a friendly smile.

Harry took that as his cue to turn around and sprint away. All the while, Harry cursed his own stupidity. He was the boy-who-lives, for crying out loud, he should no better than to go around unarmed. Still, he figured he could outrun his attacker. Harry was quite a fast runner. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, before Hogwarts, but he could still sprint faster and longer than most wizards could.

Unfortunately, he appeared to have found the one wizard who had as much if not more speed and endurance than him.

"Harry, stop! I'm not going to harm you! I have an offer for you." The young man was right behind him and Harry mentally groaned. The man didn't even look winded, unlike Harry who was regretting not at least jogging while at Hogwarts. It took a moment for Harry to figure out why he looked vaguely familiar.

"Impressive." The man murmured. "So few of the wizarding kind do any sort of exercise, except for the aurors, of course, certainly not at Hogwarts, though." He was beaming.

Harry ignored that. "Crouch. Come to finish the job?"

He blinked at Harry. "What? No! I'm not Crouch. I'm Dr. John Smith."

Harry stared at him. Now that he had a proper look, he noticed a few differences. This man didn't have a tic and he was wearing a suit underneath his robes, which he kept awkwardly tugging at.

"What do you want?" Harry asked guardedly.

"What? Oh, right. The Department of Mysteries reviewed what happened three weeks ago." He looked positively thrilled at the mere thought.

"I'm sorry for what we-" Harry was interrupted by him.

"No, no, no, no, no. We're impressed, we are. No, we're offering you and your friends a special opportunity, if you like." He grinned madly. "It's sort of a work-study program, see."

"Look, I don't know if you've heard recently but my hands are full with Voldemort." Harry said awkwardly.

"This isn't something we offer to just anyone." All cheerfulness was gone and he fixed the panting teen with a sharp look. "If you agree, you will attend a special Mysteries-approved magical Academy where you will be taught more than Hogwarts could ever hope to teach you. Should you wish to use that against Riddle, that is your business."

Harry blinked at him. "What?" He finally managed.

"Your fighting was impressive, but we are also impressed by your ingenuity and skill. You held your own against seasoned Death Eaters, something which most aurors have difficulty with these days. We are offering you a chance to attend a very premier magical academy, that does not just open its doors for anyone." He explained. "This offer will not be made again and should you refuse, this entire meeting will be removed from your memories."

"What do you want." Harry asked bluntly. "In my experience, these things are not free."

"Oh no, we want you to work in a subsection of the Department of Mysteries, once your schooling is done."

Harry stared at him. He could honestly say that he had never considered working in that Department. "Doing what exactly?" He asked skeptically.

"Depends on what you specialize in." The man was bouncing on his feet and grinning madly. "I work in the Department of Time." He paused a moment and frowned slightly. "I'm forgetting something, aren't I?" He mused to himself. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, right!" He reached into a pocket of his robes and withdrew a packet that should not have fit in there. "Here." He effectively distracted Harry from pondering his appearance more. "Look this over. Owl your reply to the Department of Mysteries." He instructed. "Don't tell your friends, by the way. Your mail is being watched."

Harry accepted the package from him. "How did you find me without finding my guard?" He asked.

The man chuckled darkly. "Let's just say they're a bit busy. Approaching your other friends was nothing compared to getting a few free minutes with you."

Harry frowned a moment before shrugging and rifling through the information packet. There was an information packet, a form, and other assorted odds and ends, including financial information. When he looked up to remark on that, he realized that the strange man was gone. His brow furrowed at that since he hadn't heard him disapparate or leave.

With a shrug, he turned around and headed home.

-O-O-

It was amazing what Harry read in the information packet. Although it didn't sound perfect by any means, Harry wasn't so sure about Blood Magic or Dark Magic, and he certainly had no intention of taking anything involving the words 'sacrifice', 'death', 'power', or 'ritual' in the description, he found it quite interesting, and certainly more factual than his introduction to Hogwarts. What was more, it had summer classes.

Harry was leaning more towards a yes than a no. The only thing he wasn't sure about were his friends. As a whole, the group had grown closer over the events in the Ministry, or so he had thought. He had received no mail at all, so he wasn't sure if it was Dumbledore's doing or if something similar to his second year was happening.

There were a large variety of classes to choose from and Harry found himself debating what to specialize in. He had noted that this magical academy seemed to operate more like a university than Hogwarts had. Deciding to put that off until later, he picked up the financial packet since he doubted something like this was cheap.

A few seconds later, his eyebrows shot up. The Department of Mysteries had a clause going that they would pay for up to half of the education as long as he agreed to work for them after his education was complete. What wasn't paid for by them could be achieved through various scholarships and grants. Harry was quite surprised since he was eligible for some of them.

Thoughtfully, he padded downstairs and retrieved a sheet of paper, an envelope, and a stamp. Since he was apparently unable to send owls, he was going to use the muggle post, at least to Hermione. Hopefully she could shed a bit of light on the mysterious Academy of Advanced Magic.

_Hermione,_

_I've tried repeatedly to send you an owl, but she keeps turning up empty-handed so I'm not sure if Professor Dumbledore has instilled a no-contact policy on me or if someone is stealing my post again. It occurred to me that sending this the muggle way might actually succeed in getting to you._

_At any rate, I received a rather interesting visitor earlier today. I won't go into detail what it was about since he told me not to, but he made me an offer that I might be considering. Do you know of what I am talking about and can you shed any light on this?_

_How has your summer been? Mine's been rather boring, to be honest. The relatives have been ignoring me mostly, which is actually kind of nice._

_-Harry_

Harry tucked the letter into the envelope and prayed that Hermione wasn't with the Weasley's or at Grimmauld's Place. Otherwise, this whole letter would be for naught. He realized as he turned it over to fill out the address that he actually didn't know where Hermione lived. With a muttered curse, he retrieved the phone book and searched through it until he found the Grangers. After cross-referencing Callum and Evie Granger with the business section, decided that that was probably them.

After scribbling the address on the front of the envelope, he left the Dursley's to mail it. Now all he had to so was wait, and decide what he was going to specialize in.

As it turned out, students could take anywhere from fourteen to twenty classes each year, twenty-eight if they chose to take summer classes as Harry probably would. There was a limit of ten classes per semester. Harry decided he rather liked that and resolved to fall back into his more scholarly habits that he had had when he was younger.

Ever since he was young, he had always been a smart young man. He hadn't made exceptional grades or anything like that because he didn't want to draw even more ire from Dudley and his friends. It wasn't that the Dursley's frowned upon Harry's grades being excellent, Merlin knew they had encouraged heavily his good grades; it was just that his fellow primary schoolers did not like nerds and had made it clear what they would do to anyone who proved smarter than average. That and he got tired of Dudley stealing his homework to pass off as his own.

So Harry had made it a habit of studying in secret where Dudley couldn't bother him and his Vernon couldn't offer useless trivia, as he was prone to doing back when Harry was prone to doing his homework in the kitchen. When he had realized he could do magic, Harry had realized that that could be why his relatives didn't like him overly much - they abhorred anything unnatural, which was why they encouraged his high marks in maths and science.

He had somewhat dropped those habits however. Ron had made his opinions quite clear about what he thought of intellectuals. After Hermione had joined their little group, Harry had gotten so engrained into his habits, and he hadn't wanted to show up Hermione, although he suspected that would have been difficult even if he were studying as much as he used to. While he was a fairly quick reader, she was quicker and had a better retention of what she read. He sometimes suspected she had an eidetic memory. Add that to the fact that she was good at piecing things together, and she was a much better scholar than he was. She could do with ease what he could only do with hours of studying.

After a fair bit of thought, he decided to try out Combat Magic, Healing Magic, and a few classes here and there that interested him. He was a bit leery about some classes like Potions, but he did recognize the use of brewing his own. With that in mind, he marked down on a piece of parchment which classes he was interested.

-O-O-

It was two days later when he received a reply from Hermione. He was quite happily surprised to receive it since he had wondered whether she would even be home.

"Boy!" Vernon's loud voice echoed through the rooms of the house. Harry looked up, wondering why his uncle wanted him downstairs since it wasn't time to start lunch yet.

"Yes?" He asked as he trundled downstairs.

"You've got a letter."

Harry couldn't stop the wide grin from spreading across his face. Vernon narrowed at his eyes at his nephew.

"What's this about, then?" He asked sharply as he held the letter out of reach.

"It's just a letter from one of my friends." Harry noted that Petunia had wandered out of the kitchen to see what was happening, and even Dudley had poked his head out of his room.

"One of...them?" Vernon asked. Harry nodded. "What about?"

"We're discussing something that concerns school." Harry answered nervously as he eyed his uncles face.

"And you're using normal post?"

Yeees." Vernon finally handed him the letter and Harry disappeared into his room to read it.

_Harry,_

_You caught me just in time. We just got back from Italy two days ago. I haven't received any letters either before or during my trip to Spain. It's quite odd since I borrowed Pig and sent you a letter before I left. This is rather worrying since I've received mail from Ron and Neville. I wonder if they've tried writing you. Have you tried Dobby? As much as I hate using slave labor, he seems the best bet. I would be careful about sending anything to Ron or Ginny. Professor Dumbledore's been in and out of the Burrow, or so Ron's told me._

_I did actually. It all seems rather interesting and mum and dad like the looks of it. They are seriously considering it. I've sent a letter to Ron asking if he received any visitor's. Or Ginny for that matter. I've discussed it a bit with mum and dad and they've agreed that they'll seriously think about it and let me know by the end of the week. It might be easier to convince them if someone else I know has agreed to go as well. I've sent owls to Neville and Luna, being as vague as possible._

_Harry, it honestly sounds like a good deal. I would consider it. I've researched it and ran into a few records of it, not many, but they are out there. It is apparently one of the best out there and getting invited is very rare. I should warn you though, they are somewhat unprejudiced in who they have working there. I mean that literally, they don't care about pasts or what people've done as long as they teach well and don't present too much of a threat to the students. There have been records of murderers, psychopaths, and everything else you can think of. It's not safe, but if you survive, I think you'll be better prepared to fight Voldemort._

_My summer's been quite good, thank you. As I said, I went to Italy for vacation. I started to ask if you'd gotten your homework done, but that's rather a moot point, isn't it. At any rate, I've got to go unpack._

_-Hermione_

With a wide smile, Harry jotted a reply and set out to mail it back to her. With luck, he wouldn't be going alone. He did consider her idea of using Dobby.

"Dobby?" He asked tentatively. When no house elf was forthcoming, he shrugged it off as a lost cause. He hadn't really expected it to work in any case since Dobby was a free elf.

He had asked Hermione what their replies had been in his letter so he expected an answer with her next letter. With a pleased grin, he holed himself up in his room to consider what he might need since there was no actual supplies list.

Nothing much happened for the next few days. No letter came from Hermione, and he begun to worry that someone had figured out what they were doing. He needn't have worried, however, because a letter came for him that Saturday.

"Boy! Letter!"

"Here." Harry immediately opened the letter and started reading it.

_Harry,_

_Alright, Ron and Ginny didn't get visitors. That guy came back and told me that he couldn't arrange to visit you again. He also said that Ginny would be difficult to approach, but that Ron was not trustworthy. I wouldn't believe him, but he sounded so...trustworthy. He even cited a few examples. He said that if you decide to accept, it'll be easier to chat with you once you're there since he's working there himself._

_I'm not sure what to think of that._

_Anyway, mum and dad agreed, so I've already sent in my acceptance. Neville said that his grandmother was leery, but that she agreed in the end. Luna didn't even ask her dad. She just said yes. So, now we're waiting on Ginny. He said that the DoM was working on getting her parents out of the way long enough to meet with Ginny._

_Anyway, you should get your aunt or uncle's permission down in writing. For legal purposes._

-_Hermione_

0-0-0-0-0

Harry decided once and for all that Professor Dumbledore was creepy. How many professors insisted that they meet in a broom shed, after all? That was beyond creepy. Hiding a shiver of disgust, Harry headed inside to meet his friends.

"He was offering me 'extra lessons'." He murmured to Hermione as he passed her. If her look of disgust was anything to go by, she was in complete agreement with his thoughts on that.

"What do you think they were about?" Ginny asked later on that evening.

"I'm not sure I want to know." Harry said dryly. "At the moment, he's not exactly on my favorite person list."

Hiding their plans from the Weasley's was difficult. Mrs. Weasley seemed to instinctively know that he, Hermione, and Ginny were conspiring. Ron, however, seemed oblivious to what was going on. Harry, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why the strange Dr. Smith didn't trust Ron. For his part, however, he kept his silence about it. For one thing, he found something was preventing him from speaking of it. Every time he tried, his tongue froze up. When it was just he and the other two future students, he could talk freely. It was quite strange.

One morning, he found a small silver ring and instructions for it. It was set for August 17th at nine in the morning. He was only to bring any valuables he required for the year since clothes, books, and other necessities could be purchased upon arrival. A quick check confirmed that Hermione and Ginny had received similar items.

Harry pocketed his and spent most of his time playing Quidditch with the Weasleys. He would have liked to do a bit of studying, but Mrs. Weasley was suspicious enough as it was. Still, he managed to find time for Hermione and Ginny both.

"Hey." He said as he found the two in Hermione's room.

"Mum thinks we're shagging." Ginny said bluntly.

Harry stopped pacing and stared at her. "What?" He finally managed.

"Mum gave me 'the talk' and a few pointers." The youngest Weasley was blushing a tomato red, which, clashed magnificently with her hair.

"Why?"

"I think she's hoping to invoke one of the 'Ye Olde Laws' that no one ever pays attention to anymore." Ginny snorted in disgust.

"What laws?" Hermione asked curiously.

"He that knocks a maiden up must marry said maiden." She did a pretty good impression of her mother. "I think mum wants to make you an official member of the family."

He kept silent about that. Harry wasn't entirely sure of his own sexuality. It wasn't that he was particularly interested in boys or anything like that, it was just that he had yet to figure out what be was interested in. Cho had been a passing fling that had quickly worn out and since then no one male or female had caught his eye.

"I think she's grasping at straws, to be honest." Ginny murmured.

"Why though?" Hermione mused. "Harry's a bit young marrying."

"Who knows how adults think." Ginny snorted.

"So when do yours activate?"

"Mine's at ten." Hermione put in.

"Ten-thirty." Ginny replied.

"Oh." Harry mused. "Mine's at nine."

"This could be tricky." Hermione remarked. "You're leaving the earliest, but once you do, they'll be on high alert." Neither of them needed to ask who 'they' were. The trio were trying to be as vague as possible in case someone was listening.

"Maybe we should all sneak away and hide until portkey." Ginny suggested.

"Or maybe we should see if we can ask them if they can arrange something." Harry put in. "They seem remarkably good at arranging everything else."

"But how?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I was just making a suggestion."

"How about this. She thinks you two are shagging. So why don't you disappear off somewhere and wait, and I'll hint at what you're supposedly doing.

"And you?"

Hermione thought about it for a few seconds. "I can pretend to be mad and lock myself in my room and wait."

"What if they realize you've disappeared?" Ginny asked Hermione. "What if they start looking for us?"

"I can lend you my invisibility cloak." Harry suggested.

The trio hashed everything else out as well before finally deciding that they had their plans as good as they could possibly be.

"I just hope this works."

0-0-0-0-0

Harry was packed with everything but his invisibility cloak, which he dutifully gave to Ginny as they headed out to the clearing where they had played several games of Quidditch.

"See you in a bit." Harry said as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Good luck, Harry." She answered as she hugged back.

At precisely nine, Harry felt the familiar tugging on his naval and he found himself in an office alone. He blinked and stared around him, trying to figure out what was going on.

After a moment, he awkwardly took a seat on the other side of the desk and waited patiently. A minute later, he heard voices approaching the office. The door opened and someone entered. Harry found him staring in equally surprised burgundy eyes.

"I knew it!" Harry exclaimed as he shot out of the chair with his wand out. "That was Crouch."

"What, Dr. Smith? No it wasn't." He said shortly as he circled to the other side and sat down. "I assure you, he was exactly who he said he was." He glanced sharply at the young teen. "Do sit down, Potter. We've got quite a bit to go over. Call me Thomas, by the way."

"I thought your name was just Tom."

"Oh, it is." He answered breezily. "I prefer Thomas however, and most don't know me well enough to call me on it. Sit down, and I shall try to keep this as civil as possible."

"What? No crucios? No death threats?"

He raised an eyebrow at him. "Would you prefer that?" He asked sardonically.

"Well, no."

"Good, because I really don't want to." The Dark Lord answered. "Now if you're done acting like an angsty teenager, we need to get down to business." Harry flushed, but did not say anything. "What specializations were you considering?"

Harry mumbled something so low that the Dark Lord couldn't quite make it out. "Could you repeat that?" Thomas asked dryly.

"Combat and Healing." Harry answered quietly as he examined his fingernails.

"To kill me, I suppose." There was no malice behind his voice, although it was heavy with irony.

"Yeah?"

"I can't say as I'm surprised by that." It annoyed Harry how blasé he was being about him trying to kill him. "Might I recommend you take Wizarding Politics." He remarked as he eyed the teen.

"Why?"

"Do you even know what this war is about?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You eradicating muggles and muggleborn?" Harry asked.

Thomas snorted. "You are definitely taking Wizarding Politics." He muttered as he marked the class down.

"But-" Harry started to protest.

"I am your Student Advisor until you graduate, Potter." Thomas informed him. "As such, I can strongly recommend classes that do not specialize in magic."

"Oh."

"So, Combat and Healing, you say." Thomas glanced over a list of classes. "Most classes don't have more than three or four students."

"Why such small classes?"

"We have quite a few, but only eighty-nine students. World-wide." Thomas answered.

"I think you'll be wanting to take Magical Theory to start your combat classes off. I also recommend taking a self-defence class."

"Why?" Harry asked blankly.

"Dr. Smith tells me you are a good sprinter. Imagine how good that would be in a fight where you are outnumbered, outclasses, and unable to apparate." Harry thought about that a moment before nodding thoughtfully. After some thought, Harry chose a weapons class. For muggle weapons. He knew the basics about how those worked, and he figured that he'd probably be better at them then sword-fighting or anything like that. Plus that required him to actually get close to his opponents, something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Let's see, you'll be taking offensive and defensive magical classes, I presume." Harry nodded eagerly. He'd decided he would take those first and then take Survivalist classes next year.

He marked those two classes down. "You'll be wanting to take Potions as well." Thomas remarked. Harry grimaced but nodded anyway. Thomas smirked slightly at his expression. "Let's see, Basic Healing Standards would be good as well as Identifying Herbs and Poisons. So that brings your total up to eight classes as well." Thomas tapped the pen against the paper. Harry noted for the first time that he wasn't using quills and parchment like he would have expected. "Two more classes at the very least. See any you like?"

Harry perused the first year classes and finally pointed at Wizarding culture. "I suppose I should take that."

"Only took you six years to figure out that you should learn about us." Thomas muttered in disgust as he shook his head and marked down the class.

Harry flushed and shot him a glare, but did not otherwise comment. "Got any classes you'd recommend?" He asked challengingly.

Thomas glanced over the list and muttered under his breath thoughtfully. "How does mystical creatures sound to you?" He asked.

Harry thought about it for half a second and nodded. "That'll work."

"That'll be fun. I hear Dr. Smith takes his later classes on trips to meet them in person." Thomas muttered as he marked them under his breath.

Harry looked at him interested. He made a mental note to take the later classes. That sounded fun.

"Well, Potter, I think we are about done." Thomas set the pen down and scanned over the paper, presumably making sure he hadn't made any mistakes. "You will receive your schedule on the twenty-fifth. Classes start the twenty-eighth. You are free to make yourself at home until then."

Harry eyed him warily before nodding. "You're not going to kill me in my sleep, are you?" He asked warily.

"No, Potter. I'm not." He sighed in exasperation. "Smith would kill me it I did."

Harry stared at him with an odd expression.

-O-O-

Harry met up with Neville who had apparently portkeyed in at the same time.

"How was your summer?" He asked the shyer boy.

"Okay." Neville shrugged. "I spent most of it in the Greenhouses behind our house."

"You have a greenhouse?" Harry asked.

Neville nodded with a nervous smile. "Yeah. I'm the only one that really uses it though."

"I used to do a fair bit of gardening for my aunt." Harry remarked. He tactfully did not add that the experience made him despise plants and gardening in general.

"Really? What kind?"

"Mostly for show." Harry grimaced slightly. "The kind that required lots of maintenance."

Neville looked torn. Harry must not have done as good of a job as he had thought he had hiding his dislike. Neville looked like he was torn between protecting the virtue of plants and sympathizing with him.

"They're the kind of plants that are there for beauty and not much else." Harry hastened to reassure him. "I don't think you would've liked them very much."

Neville finally settled for shrugging. "So who was your student advisor? Mine was Dracula."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Are you certain?" He asked wide-eyed.

"Spitting image. He showed me his fangs." Neville shivered slightly at that.

"Mine was Lord Voldemort." Harry said with a straight face.

"Now you're just mocking me." Neville complained.

"No, no. I was being serious." Harry said quickly.

Neville stared at him faintly. "What have we gotten ourselves into?" He asked faintly.

At lunchtime, the group met up in the cafeteria. There were a large variety of teachers and students, and all of them seemed to intermix amongst the round tables. Hermione was looking vastly annoyed as she plopped down beside Harry.

"If I don't murder my advisor before the end of the year, it'll be a miracle." She snarled as she stabbed a potato viciously with her fork.

"Who was it?" Harry asked as he piled roast beef onto his plate.

"Sherlock bloody Holmes, named after his sodding grandfather!" She snapped.

Even Harry had heard of Sherlock Holmes. "You're serious?"

Ginny eyed them for a moment. "Sherlock was a rather intelligent wizard." She remarked as she sedately ate her green beans. "I think his grandson was a squib though."

"Whatever the case, he is the most insufferable, rude man I've ever met. And that's with knowing Professor Snape!"

"What did he say?" Neville asked.

"He told me that I was clearly trying to impress him with my knowledge about the wizarding world, and that I thought I had to prove myself since I was from the muggle world. He also said that I had a crush on my best friend, but that it was doubtful it would ever come to anything."

Harry raised an eye at this. She noticed and blushed. "Not you, Harry. Ron." She scowled fiercely. "He also told me I should give up my idealistic views of the world and come to terms with reality." Harry suspected that this was about Spew.

"I'm not sure who or what I got." Ginny snorted. "All I know was I had to threaten to hex his balls off three times before he got the hint."

Harry snorted lightly at that. He wasn't about to get between Ginny and the poor sod. He liked his equipment right where they were, thank you very much.

"Count Vladislaous Dragulia." Neville announce with a slight shiver. "He spent the entire time eying my neck. I'm not sure if that was because he was hungry or if because he was trying to scare my pants off."

"I don't think the Headmaster would allow an uncontrollable bloodthirsty vampire in." Ginny pointed out as she skewered a slice of potato and ate it. "You've not said much, Luna. Are you alright."

"Oh, I was just keeping a lookout for Snurgies. They like to infest the weak minded and make them dance." The blonde murmured dreamily.

"So who's your student advisor?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The Master." Luna answered unfazed in the slightest.

"Who?" They all chorused together, before glancing at each other and dissolving in fits of laughter.

"The Master of the Universe." Luna explained. "He employs the Snurgies. It's how he wins the election in '08."

Hermione eyed her for a moment before brushing the odd comment off.

"Do you mind if I join you?" A smooth voice interrupted them. "We need to talk, I think."

"Did I mention my student advisor is Lord Voldemort?" Harry choked out. He was finding it hard not to laugh at their stunned expressions. Only Ginny had actually recognized Lord Voldemort, but the others had pieced things together when he had introduced Lord Voldemort to them.

"I think you might have forgotten to." Ginny was the first to recover and had her wand out at Voldemort before he could react.

"Not at the dinner table, if you don't mind." Lord Voldemort requested dryly. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, now would we?"

"Is he threatening us?" Neville murmured in an undertone.

Harry shrugged. "You get used to it." He glanced at Thomas. "So, what do you want?"

"To talk, naturally." Thomas said. "First off, I want to get this out of the way, so I won't be accosted randomly by irate Gryffindors."

"Luna's a Ravenclaw." Harry pointed out mildly.

"Luna's also not going to try to kill me." He retorted.

"So, talk. Why shouldn't we be trying to kill you?" Harry asked finally.

"How much do you know about horcruxes?" He asked the group of teens.

"Nothing beyond the fact that it sounds perverted." Harry hid a grin at that.

Thomas looked unamused. "A horcrux is a container for your soul. Every time you murder someone, your soul is split."

"Bet yours looks like it's had a run-in with Wolverine." Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione shot him an odd look.

"When I was young, I foolishly started making them without researching the consequences. I did not care about those; I just wanted the benefits." He paused for breath before continuing. "The consequences, however, far outweigh the benefits."

"How?" It was Hermione that spoke up.

"The soul is what makes us who we are, that and our magic is tied to the soul. The more fractured it is, the easier the Dark Arts are, I might add."

"So when you split your soul and left them lying around, you were damaging your magic?"

"And myself. Before I 'died' I was insane. I didn't care about anyone or anything; I forgot what I was fighting for. All I cared about was killing." Harry started to say something but Thomas guessed what it was. "I know that this little tale does not excuse my actions, but please, hear me out."

The group leaned in interested.

"I was insane, every story you've ever heard about me was probably true. I was a monster. But then something happened." He glanced over at Harry. "You destroyed my diary."

"Wouldn't that do more harm?" Harry frowned.

"Basilisk venom cannot destroy souls. Only dementors do that. Instead, that part of my soul rejoined the last remaining speck that I had."

"Interesting history lesson and all, but what does this have to do with us not killing you?"

"The first time you create a horcrux, you put half of your soul in." Thomas answered calmly.

Hermione gasped in sudden understanding. "Each time you created a horcrux, you put half of your soul in, but each time, you left it progressively smaller!"

"Correct. The diary was the first one I created. I now have about three-quarters of my soul."

"Where did the other quarter come from?" Ginny asked unexpectedly.

"Albus destroyed one of my horcruxes."

"His hand!" Harry realized.

"Yes, the idiot didn't bother to make sure I didn't put curses on the band. He is slowly dying. Only Severus is keeping him alive, something which Severus isn't happy about since I think he wants him dead about as much as I do."

"So are you going to destroy your other horcruxes?"

"Why would I?" Thomas raised an eyebrow. "I could just as easily send Albus on his little quest. The idiot no more understands horcruxes than I did."

"Why do you think that?" Neville frowned.

"He would be carting dementors around with him, if that was the case."

"So, you're getting sane. What's that got to do with anything?" Harry finally asked.

"I have bigger fish to fry than teenagers." Thomas answered. "Although I suppose I have a good reason for killing you now." Every teen at the table reached for their wands. "But I won't. The basilisk venom is doing its job."

"Wait...what?" Hermione asked with a puzzled frown.

Harry suddenly realized that he had never told either of his friends about being a basilisk. Now was as good of a time as any, he decided.

"The basilisk venom is still very much in your system. Have you ever gotten sick since you were bitten?"

Harry frowned as he tried to remember. Finally he gave up. "No."

"Viruses and bacteria wouldn't survive long because the venom is still in your blood, and I doubt it will ever leave."

"Is it toxic?" Harry was starting to panic.

"I doubt it. I'd have to examine your blood to be sure, but I daresay you would have noticed if your blood starting eating through your clothes, considering how often you seem to end up in the hospital wing."

Good point.

"I doubt it's poisonous. To be on the safe side, I'd avoid bloodplay during sex though." Harry flushed and hid his face while everyone laughed at that.

* * *

><p>This would be a crossover of epic proportions. The characters mentioned were Dracula from Van Helsing, Dr. Frank-N-Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show, the Doctor and the Master from Doctor Who, and Sherlock Holmes from BBC's Sherlock. There is always room for many many more crossovers, so knock yourself out.<p>

As always, if you decide to write any fanfics for these, please send me links so I can read them and feel free to steal the snippets from here.


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